Tattoo
by JodieLove
Summary: They went their separate ways, after a bad ending. Now, he's a basketball star. She works at a hospital. No matter how hard she tried to forget him, he was like a tattoo branded upon her memories. Now, their worlds collide once again. TxG R
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: High School Musical is not mine. **

**Note: ****I actually wrote this a few days ago, but I decided to post it up before I left for vacation. **

**Prologue**

Strong, white waves crashed violently into the rocks, roaring beneath her. The orange sun sank miserably into the blue, casting a soft glow throughout. The enchanting light danced upon the delicate features of the young woman, standing at the edge of the tall, jagged rocks.

Her hair blew silently in the light breeze, covering somewhat of her fair skinned face. She closed her eyes, letting the air around embrace her.

Carefully, she leaned down to roll up her pant legs and kick of her shoes. Removing her socks as well, she held them in her hand. Ignoring the protests of her bare feet, she slid down the smooth surface and onto another, one by one, until she sank her toes into the compacted, wet sand.

She took a deep breath, taking in the ocean's salty smell and the clean unpolluted air. Looking down the coast, she could see the vastness of the barren land, fresh and imprint-less. Not for long.

She took a few quick steps before breaking out into a refreshing jog. Her hair flew wildly behind her, a combination of both the relentless wind and her speed. A trail was marked in the sand with her footprints. But as she felt the cool water hit her feet, she realized that they'd fade away soon. Fade away like the sun was about to. Fade away.

Slowing her pace, she cautiously stepped away from the water line and placed her shoes on the ground, preparing them as a seat. Ensuring that they would not be touched by the water, she sat down with her face towards the expanse of endless nothingness.

_Fade away, _she thought to herself. Most things will fade away in a lifetime, like youth or happiness. Then again, many things will never fade away. They stay engraved permanently like a tattoo that would brand you forever.

They say that you'd always remember your first love; it was like a tattoo printed within your very mind.

Suddenly, her thin white sweater and jeans didn't seem to be enough to protect her from the cold. Or was it cold? Nevertheless, she involuntarily shivered, instinctively wrapping her arms around herself and pulling her legs in.

She buried her head into her arms, a mass of wavy brown hair tumbling over her shoulders.

"Gabriella?" asked a hesitant male voice from behind. She recognized it immediately.

Still, she didn't answer though. She shivered again, this time definitely because of the cold. The little warmth the dying sun had been giving had now been blocked out by the shadow that had fallen over her.

She looked up and forced a smile on her face. The sadness and pain of the previous on slash of memories still clouding her eyes. He didn't seem to notice though, as he took a seat beside her. The sand was bitterly cold.

"You always did love the beach," he commented lightly, following her lead and looking out into the ocean. She merely nodded.

"My house is no where near a beach," he continued, looking at her pensively. "It's miles and miles away."

She turned to look at him as well, sending him a true smile. "I'm not a fish you know…I can live without water."

He placed his heavy arm on her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. She didn't resist, she just put her head on his chest. It was comforting.

"Good," he smiled, placing a loving kiss on her forehead. "Cause I can't live without you."

He put his hand out and she put her own in his. The large hands entwined with the smaller ones, preparing never to let go.

"I love you," he whispered.

The smile slowly disappeared from her face, leaving behind a mirthless expression. She was aware that the sun was at the edge of it's time, barely hanging on to it's last few minutes. Soon the blackness would surround them.

After a while, she replied softly, "You too."

She could feel his shoulders sag. She could feel his hopeful expression fall. And she knew perfectly why. She just couldn't bear to lie; even if it was a white lie. What good would it do?

Vaguely in the back of her mind, she remembered how easy it had been to say those three words back then. To _him. _The other him.

Now, it left a bitter taste in her mouth when she tried. It simply couldn't escape her thin lips.

She leaned further into him, and in response, he hugged her tighter. All to soon, blackness descended on them.

Reluctantly, she pulled out of the embrace and pushed herself up. The footprints from before had been washed out completely now, leaving a once again perfect surface.

"Time to go," she said, as much to herself as to the person beside her.

"I'll walk you home."

Together they walked off towards the lights in the distance, hand in hand. Civilization proved to be not far away, as within a few minutes, they had already arrived. A intimidating building loomed over them, as big as it was sophisticated.

She leaned up on her toes to give him the briefest of farewell kisses. From one side, it held hesitation, and from the other, it was full of promise.

He put his free hand to her cheek after pulling out of the sweet kiss and murmured a quick farewell. Then, he turned and walked away.

"Johnny!" she called. Waiting until her turned around, she continued, "Thank you."

For what, she wasn't sure. She just felt the need to say it.

And from the distance, she could see him smile. She returned the small gesture.

Then, she watched him too, fade into the distance.

If everything could fade away, then damnit, why couldn't _he? _

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mom, I'm back," she yelled as she shut the door. She flinched at the loud noise.

She heard somewhat of a reply, but couldn't quite make out what it was.

"What?"

"That's good honey," Sarah Montez repeated as she appeared in the room. "You better wipe those feet before walking throughout my house," she demanded, still in a kind voice.

"Course ma," said the girl as she picked up a towel thrown nearby. It was customary for her to be out at the beach often, coming back with sand all over.

Once she was done with it, she threw it back onto the ground carelessly.

"Look at you, twenty-three, engaged, and you still don't listen. Put that towel in the sink."

Her gaze traveled to her hand, looking quizzically at the small diamond rock on her fourth finger.That's right. Johnny had proposed to her. She felt uncomfortable all of a sudden, like she was suffocating.

And in a way, she was. She was suffocating in a love that she couldn't reciprocate—yet.

As if sensing her daughter's discomfort, Sarah engulfed her only child into a motherly hug. "I've said this before baby, but if you don't—"

"I do ma, I do want to," she said exasperatedly.

And she did want to. She wanted to get married. This just wasn't exactly how she had envisioned her perfect man though.

Never mind the beach wedding or any of that—in her dreams, the very least she pictured was that she would be able to say those three words to her future husband.

Johnny was everything she would look for in a guy; nice, sweet, charming, funny, caring…and the list goes on.

She thought herself absolutely insane to not be able to say she loved him because, mind you, she certainly felt like she loved him. How is that she couldn't voice it then, when she had been able to say it to the other guy; the shocking, lying, infuriating, selfish, callous scoundrel.

The one that was forever embedded in her brain—not heart but brain.

Like a tattoo.

**Note: I'm not really sure about this right now, so review and tell me what you think. I may, or may not continue this. **

**If I do, I expect it will be updated less than my other story though, because I want to complete the other one. DO READ IT:) and review that too. Please.**


	2. The end to the ended

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Note: I hope you guys like this. Sorry for the slow posting, I was away. **

**Anyways:) REVIEW please. **

* * *

Pushing her long side-swept bangs out of her face, Gabriella assessed her reflection. Her dark curly hair fell well past her shoulders, cascading gradually onto her back. Her tanned skin, a result of many hours at the beach, combined with her petite but generous figure contrasted beautifully with the white tank she had on.

She fingered through her pile of necklaces until she found her black beaded bracelet. It fit perfectly with her faded blue skinny jeans and her black suspenders.

Nodding, she walked over to the bathroom with her make-up bag. It didn't have much—just an eyeliner pencil, mascara, blush and lip gloss. Carefully and quickly, she outlined her thickly framed chocolate eyes and added some colour to her cheeks and mouth.

There was still almost half an hour before Johnny would return home for their dinner tonight though, so Gabriella threw herself onto the couch.

"Where is that remote?" she grumbled after minutes of searching. She unwillingly forced herself up. She picked up the pillows on the couch and tossed them to the floor. Then she walked to the kitchen, which overlooked the T.V. room, in a failed attempt to locate the remote. Finally she walked over to the screen to change the buttons manually.

She flipped through the channels, briefly pausing on certain programs.

"ESPN updates. Catching up with the latest in NBA basketball tonight…"

Gabriella jumped to the next channel, but her curiosity bested her. She went back to the sports channel.

"The Toronto Raptors had an amazing win against the Grizzlies this afternoon, 101-92. Chris Bosh played excellently after 4 games out with an injury. And again, the Knicks are playing Seattle Sonics tonight at seven, so be sure to catch the game right here on ESPN. Speaking of the Knicks, their number 2 draft pick should be playing tonight for the first time after missing the first few games with an injury acquired in the preseason—"

"Gabriella?" called a voice from the doorway.

Instinctively, her hand shot out to the power button and pushed on it, as if guiltily. But what did she have to feel guilty about?

A warm hand wrapped around her waist. "What were you watching?" her fiancé murmured into her ear.

"Um…sports?" She turned around to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Sports? When have you been interested in sports?"

"I was just flipping through," she answered vaguely, skillfully avoiding the question. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," he replied. Together they walked to the door to put on their shoes. Gabriella slipped into her peep-toe black pumps while Johnny stepped into his Nikes. He was wearing casual dark blue jeans and a gray t-shirt with a suit jacket overtop.

The car ride to the restaurant was fairly quiet, with occasional questions and short answers. The type of questions that are as meaningless as they are typical.

Gabriella spent most of this ride lost in thought and after much consideration, she decided that she really just liked hearing about sports; she was most definitely not checking to see if her ex-boyfriend, you know the one that wouldn't leave her alone in her head, was drafted into a team. Because she just didn't care anymore. She shouldn't care anymore.

"How was your day?" asked Johnny from beside her, with his eyes still glued on the road ahead. It interrupted her train of thought.

"Fine. And yours?" she replied absentmindedly. She asked more because it was a formality, something that was expected, rather than because she was genuinely interested.

"Good."

Then after moments of silence, Gabriella began thinking again.

Why should she care? Caring would mean she had forgiven him, and that was not the case in her mind. She hated him. She hated him now with all her heart, or what was left of it when they parted. Generally, she considered herself quite the forgiving person. But there are some things in life you just can't forgive. For example, when you have you eyes set on a cute shirt, but it's the last one and someone runs ahead and grabs it. Or when someone comes to your house and finishes all of your favourite Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. Or ex-boyfriends—you just can't forgive them.

"You seem lost in thought," the person beside her commented innocently, "what are you thinking about?" Once again, Johnny interrupted her train of thought, but this time she was grateful.

"Nothing really," she lied. Deciding that she had been quite distant to her soon-to-be husband recently, she decided to take the bait and pick up a conversation.

"So where are we going?"

"You'll see," he said and turned to smile at Gabriella.

"Come on Johnny, tell me! I hate surprises," she whined, pouting at Johnny's teasing.

He laughed. "No…you love surprises."

Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the man beside her. He reached over with one hand and ran his thumb over her cheek. "Come on, smile. I promise you'll love it."

She swatted his hand away from her face, and then pretended to contemplate. "Fine," she declared dramatically, chuckling. "Just because I love surprises."

* * *

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the hallway, causing Troy Bolton to flinch. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair, deciding that he really needed to shower.

"Man, you stink," said a voice from within his apartment. It only confirmed his previous thoughts. Troy whirled around to see his best friend sitting at the island in the center of the kitchen, his bushy hair buried in a bowl of cereal.

"How did you get into my house?" Troy asked, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet.

"I have my ways," replied Chad through a mouthful of food.

"Gross buddy."

"Not as gross as you smell. If this is how a Knick smells, then I'm so glad I'm not one." He got up to give his friend a brotherly hug. Chad quickly pulled back. "But seriously man, go shower."

Troy playfully punched his friend in the arm, but complied nonetheless. Fifteen minutes later, he and Chad were located in front of the television, beers in hand.

"Practice is so tough," said Troy after minutes of flipping through the channels.

"Yeah?" laughed Chad, "Even for Mr. Most-anticipated-rookie-since-Lebron?"

"Shut up."

"Yeah, yeah, just remember me when you're famous. Wait, you already are."

"How's the teaching going?"

"I'm taking advil every night, I swear. Never ever teach high school students."

"I'm not planning to. Just thinking about teaching a kid like you were makes me shudder. I don't even know how you ended up a teacher."

"The kids aren't that bad really, and I wasn't that bad!" Chad defended.

"Whatever dude. You just became a teacher because your girlfriend at that time was going to become one. Jennifer was it?"

"Okay one, it was Jane. Two, that's not true. And three, you better not tell Taylor."

"I bet she already knows," laughed Troy.

"That was smooth."

"What was?" asked Troy, fluttering his eyelids innocently. He smiled at his friend.

"Changing the conversation like that. If you can't play basketball anymore, you can be a lawyer."

They shared a laugh before Troy took a sip from his bottle and flicked the T.V. off. "Nothing to watch."

He got up and walked over to his window that overlooked the Manhattan street. There was a constant throng of people flowing through the streets. The cars were honking and as usual, at a standstill. Troy looked up to see the endless amounts of tall buildings covering the cloudless blue sky.

"Sometimes," he said, "I wish I was back in Albuquerque. Back in East High."

_Gabriella, _he thought sadly but Chad was oblivious to his friends mood change.

"Me too. Back then, we didn't have to work for a living. And I thought high school was tough."

"Would you ever have done anything differently Chad?"

"What?"

"Between high school and now."

"A lot of things I think."

_I would have. _

Chad got up and finished off his drink. "Well, I have to go. I have to go pick up some stuff for Tay."

"What?" asked Chad when he saw his friend shaking his head.

"Just never thought I'd see the day Chad Danforth would be picking up tampons and pads for his girlfriend."

"I'm a teacher okay? Anything is possible. Wait…are maxi's those things?" questioned a wide-eyed Chad.

"That's seriously what you have to pick up?" Troy burst out laughing.

"Oh. My. God."

"Oh my god is right. Get out of my apartment you sis," joked his friend. "Go."

"Right, thanks _friend._"

"Go, go, go…I have to go visit my new neighbors anyways. They just moved in."

"So you going to bring home made cookies and brownies over and charm the girl next door? And you're calling me a sis." Chad said as he left.

"Shut up and go."

"Bye."

"Later."

* * *

Cookies and brownies, not likely. But there Troy was, knocking on the door beside his.

He checked his watch. It read nine-forty. It was as good a time as ever so he let his knuckles hit the hard wood door.

No one answered.

He knocked again.

No one answered.

He was about to leave when the door suddenly parted from the frame and a head popped out. A head that was all too familiar.

The door slammed shut in his face.

Then slowly, it opened again—but only a small gap.

"T-troy?" the person whispered hoarsely, sliding the door open another inch.

He remained silent.

"Gabriella? Who's at the door?"

Gabriella never broke her cold hard stare at the man outside her door. "No one," she called back.

After another moment, Troy finally spoke. He spoke the seven fateful words that would change everything.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Troy." He put out his hand for her. In retrospect, he wasn't sure why he did that—pretended to not know who she was. Maybe it was because she was living with another man. Although Troy couldn't pin on the reason why it would bother him. He knew it shouldn't have.

When he looked in the familiar chocolate eyes in front of him, Troy could feel his heart beat painfully in his chest. No longer were the eyes cold and distant. Now they were filled with pain. Pure raw pain.

She stuck a shaky hand out as well, but never touched his hand. It was as if touching him would burn her."You really don't remember me?" she asked quietly.

Once again, a voice broke their awkward encounter. "Is it one of those salespersons?" shouted Johnny.

"No. I can handle this." She turned back to Troy, awaiting an answer.

His mind told him to say he remembered her—to say the truth. But an emotion in him was the stronger of the two. And what he chose to say would once again end what he had ended four years ago—dashing whatever little to no hope Gabriella had kept burning in my heart.

"Some girl I dated?"

Then, for the second time that night, the door slammed in his face.


	3. Why here?

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Note: Please review!**

**I'm not sure if I did this well, but I **don't** want Gabriella to be the girl that cries all the time. I just want it known that it still hurts her, and it's somewhat difficult for her to see him.**

* * *

Gabriella let the heavy wooden door support her weight. Slowly she slid down until she reached the hard, cold floor.

She tilted her head upwards, refusing to let the tears in her eyes fall. She had promised herself not to cry over him anymore.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do it. As a turmoil of thoughts attacked her, she felt the wetness roll down her cheeks. Resisting was futile now that the tears had started.

How could he have forgotten her? Didn't the _years_ they dated mean anything to him? Oh, she always knew that it had meant more to her than it had meant to him, but she never thought he would completely erase her from his memory. She felt more worthless than ever in her life. The heartache she had felt at first was nothing compared to what she felt now.

She wondered how long it had taken to forget her.

"Probably a day," she whispered to herself, tasting the saltiness on her lips.

He always did this to her. Troy was always the loose brick in her otherwise sturdy wall. One little jiggle of that brick and her wall would come crumbling down. And then it would be up to her to build that wall up again. But every time, there would still be that weakness.

It hurt. What he said hurt like_ hell_.

She bit her lip, trying to stop the tears. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Honey, are you alright?" asked Johnny from the living room.

She couldn't answer, fearing if she spoke, she would start the tears once again. She could hear the television turn off and footsteps nearing.

Through blurry vision, she got up and fumbled with the door in a desperate attempt to escape. Pity and sympathy is not what she wanted. She wasn't particularly in the mood to explain herself either. By a miracle, her shaky, unstable hands managed to throw the door open. She ran out without looking.

Unfortunately for her, she ran right into Troy, who was still standing outside.

He reached out and wrapped a strong arm around her thin waist to keep her from falling.

It took Gabriella a few seconds to recover, but when she did, her sadness was gone. In its place was anger.

She wenched her arm free and pushed him off roughly. "You have _no _right touching me," she said in a low, threatening whisper. She backed up to bring some space between her and him. "Don't _touch _me."

She backed into the person standing behind her. Johnny wrapped an arm around her to brace her and Troy felt another jolt of that previous feeling course through him.

"Troy…Troy Bolton" she laughed a bitter laugh. "I _know_ who you are."

Troy wanted to tell her that he knew who she was too, but the words stuck in his throat watching someone else's arm around her petite waist. It used to be him doing that.

She inhaled deeply, her chest rising as she did. Then she furiously wiped the revealing stray tear left on her face.

"But you don't remember me," she said, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "For your information, yes. Yes, I'm some girl you dated. Are you happy?"

"Actually," she said in a strained voice, "I congratulate you." She applauded condescendingly to add to the effect, never letting her eyes leave his face.

"I would _kill _to not know you," she continued though clenched teeth. "I wish I didn't," she wavered as her anger rush began to leave. She smiled mirthlessly. "I hate you."

All of a sudden, all of the happy times she had shared with the boy in front of her flashed through her eyes. It had all been a lie. A joke, to him. And to her, it had been her everything. The words bubbled again in her throat, and she released them with as much venom as she could muster. "I hate you!" Then it was all too much. She pushed off her fiancé and ran to the exit, flying down the stairs.

Troy just stood in the same place, emotionless. He stared at the space where Gabriella had been, now taken up by someone else. Then he too left the scene, turning around mechanically and returning to his apartment. And only there did he let his facade disappear.

* * *

That night, Gabriella crept back into the house close to midnight. She changed, brushed and went to sleep beside Johnny. Neither one of them would ever mention the incident that happened earlier ever again. It was an unspoken agreement.

_Oh no, anyone but him, _she thought once she walked into the children's hospital that morning. It wasn't the mob of people or the constant eye-blinding flashes of the cameras that were bothering her. _That, _at least, she was prepared for.

It was the reason those people were here that bothered her. Because standing in the centre of the flashes and the fans was none other than—

"Troy, tell us, how do you have time to practice with your team and still be able to visit these children."

"Troy Bolton, look over here for a picture please."

"Troy!"

"Mr. Bolton."

Gabriella felt like she was going to throw up. She couldn't _live _in peace. She couldn't _work _in peace. What did he want from her?

"Gabriella?"

"Gabriella?"

"Gabriella!" yelled her boss Jamie.

Gabriella rubbed her temples and looked at the thin woman standing in front of her. The woman ran a hand through her short blonde hair and closed her blue eyes. "The basketball player is here," she said in a tired voice.

"I didn't notice," said Gabriella sarcastically. How could she miss it? Honestly. "Don't they have basketball related things to do with their time? Like practice or something?"

"Every other Monday, the whole team does charity work at various places unless they have a game. It's like a tradition for them," Jamie responded. "How are the children supposed to rest if those damn photographers keep taking pictures? Take care of them please Gabriella," she said before she turned and strutted her way back to her office.

The door shut before Gabriella could even begin to protest.

She sighed and pulled her long hair into a loose ponytail. At least she wasn't breaking down at the sight of him anymore, she thought miserably. Something that was due to the weeks she had now spent living beside him.

It was inevitable to bump into him, no matter how much Gabriella tried to avoid it. Luckily, they had never spoken since the incident weeks ago. That was apparently about to change.

"Excuse me," she said in a loud voice. No one heard her.

"Excuse me!" she yelled, trying to project her soft voice over the noise of the crowd.

"EXCUSE ME!" she bellowed. But this time, she had no trouble getting her voice across because this time, it was absolutely silent. She felt humiliation cross her features. Apparently Troy had decided to raise his hand to quiet the crowd after seeing her attempts to get their attention.

She lowered her voice. "This is a hospital, ladies and gentlemen. This is where people get rest in _peace and quiet. _If you guys want to take pictures, or ask for autographs, please _do it somewhere else. _We kindly ask all of you to leave please, unless you are visiting any of our patients here."

She waited the crowd to disperse before breathing a sigh of relief. That relief was soon cut short though, as Troy headed towards her. She mentally braced herself.

"Troy," she acknowledged shortly.

"Gabriella."

She couldn't help it. The comment just escaped her lips. "You remembered this time!" she replied, mocking astonishment and happiness. "Good job, I'm glad you didn't mix it up with those other girls you dated," she said dully.

"Are you jealous?" he said scornfully, the smile he adorned for the cameras fading now. "Because it seems you've found yourself a nice obedient husband now."

"Don't talk about him that way Troy," she hissed through the smile plastered on her face for those passing by.

"Like he's not," he snorted.

"You're jealous," she declared.

"Keep dreaming baby," he laughed and she flinched at the nickname. It had been a long time.

Thankfully, they had arrived at the nursery now.

"Hey kids," she greeted, letting a true smile fall into place for the first time that day.

"Ella!" they responded.

No matter how bad her day was, Gabriella was always brightened by the happy innocent smiles of the children. No matter how sick they were, they would always laugh and smile. It brought some hope into her desolate world.

She turned to Troy, thoroughly surprised to see him smiling as well. Not a fake smile like the one for the reporters either. He turned to her, immediately ceasing the smile.

She sighed. _Why? Why did he have to be _here?

_Why did she have to be here? _she thought. Honestly, she was only here a few days a week—so why did she have to be there when he was? She was a social worker, working at various places throughout the week. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, she worked at the hospital; her caseload consisting of only young children. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she worked at a clinic.

"Boys and girls, this is Troy Bolton," she said, nodding to the various nurses who had helped bring the children to this room. She scanned the group of tiny people, tinier than usual for their age, and frowned when she noticed Jody and Philip were missing. Gabriella made a mental note to check on their conditions later.

"Twoy!" was the response most were able to come up with. Some of the older ones attemped a "Bolt!"

"Hey everybody," he said, laughing.

Gabriella unwillingly felt her heart leap at the noise. She had always loved his laugh. It was the first time in over four years she had heard it.

She mentally cursed her betraying heart. _No. _This was the lying bastard. _No. No. No. The heartless boy that broke her._

So what if he had an amazing laugh? So what if he had mesmerizing blue eyes that made her heart pound at the speed of sound? And who cared about his charming smile, his toned body and his unusually soft hands that seemed so big and rough and fit so perfectly with her own soft ones.

She briefly wondered if they were still the same and she felt the sudden urge to reach out and grab his hands.

Then she came crashing back to reality. This was _not _good.

It was going to be a long, long day.


	4. North North South South

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Note: Please review!**

* * *

Gabriella awoke that morning to a sunless day. The sky as dark and gloomy without so much as a peep of sun. A feeling of dread washed over her.

She clumsily leaned over to her bedside table and fumbled for the small digital clock. She picked it up and lifted it over her head. Eight thirty-two it read.

She yawned. Then she looked at it again to make sure she had the time right. Then, her eyes traveled to the date.

Monday.

Monday.

Monday.

She slammed her head back onto the pillow. Monday, again. Wasn't it Monday like…yesterday?

She groaned.

Everyone hated Monday's because it meant work after a nice restful weekend. Gabriella hated Mondays simply because every other Monday meant Troy. And today just happened to be that type of Monday.

She stretched out on her bed, refusing to get up. Johnny had already left for work earlier, so she had the large space to herself.

Finally, after many tries of going back to sleep, she pushed herself off the bed and stumbled to the shower. She wished she could just sleep through damn Mondays.

It had been over two months since Troy had first reappeared in her life. She had spent a total of four full days with him already, five if you added all the times she ran into him in the halls. Five days was way too much for her.

She liked to think of Troy and her like magnets. Except, magnets with the same poles—north and north, or south and south if you like.

They repelled. They clashed.

They hated each other.

And when they were forced to be together.

It wasn't nice.

She pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail, not wanting to deal with it. Then she quickly threw on some clothes and looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't care how she looked like really.

Except for some unknowing reason, she decided the top was too loose fitting. She changed into a lacy white tank top, and an unbuttoned gray knit sweater overtop. Then, for some _other _unknowing reason, she decided that her sweatpants just had to go. She thumbed through her closet until she found a pair of dark skinny jeans and pulled them on.

Some might think she was trying to impress Troy Bolton, but Gabriella refused to believe that. She just wanted to look good—for Johnny.

And maybe make Troy regret breaking up with her. That may have crossed her mind a little.

She applied some eyeliner, and a thin coat of mascara. Then she added some lip gloss as a final touch. Perfect.

Now she had her armor. Let the battles begin.

* * *

She looked at the clock.

10:08.

"You're late," Gabriella said at once.

"Yes, Gabriella, by eight minutes."

"You're still late," she said, before turning to lead the way as customary.

He followed. "God, I'm working with a spiteful shrew," he muttered. But Gabriella heard him.

"Maybe the shrew has a reason to be spiteful," she said to him without turning around.

That silenced Troy.

They walked into the door to find 10 children looking at them with big round eyes. "You late!" said one little girl, pointing her finger at Troy.

Gabriella sent him a cold smirk. "Yes, Joanne, he is."

To Troy credit, he didn't shrink a bit. "But I'm here," he said happily. "So who wants to hear a story?"

Gabriella stood back and watched as the man interacted with the children. She had to admit he was great for them. Every time he came, they would instantly cheer up.

She watched as the kids shifted forward. Trying to get as close as possible to Troy.

Watching him with the children was like watching a totally different Troy altogether. One that wouldn't yell at her, or hurt her. One that reminded her so much of how he was like before they split. She wanted to remember him that way, but over the years, the only scene that played in her mind was the scene where he left her, while his friends laughed cruelly behind him.

Suddenly, she was desperate to leave, and the pile of papers on her desk were a welcomed reprieve. She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the onslaught of a headache coming.

Troy felt it in the room when Gabriella left. Troy knew that his previous comment had struck a nerve too close to home. He never wanted to argue with her, but she seemed to always provoke him.

He wanted to say sorry—truly. But then he would see her, in all her glory. He knew she was dressing to make him hurt, and it worked. Just the very thought of her fiancé made him fill with jealousy, but then again, he had no right.

And just like that, his anger soared again. Fiancé…she certainly moved on fast. Still, he smiled brightly and continued with the children.

Lunch arrived and he ate it alone in the cafeteria. He expected Gabriella to show up, but she never did. Eventually, he decided she wasn't coming.

Probably out to lunch with her _fiancé. _

He took his tray and emptied it out, suddenly lacking the appetite. He walked to Gabriella's room, to find her sleeping quietly on the desk.

He thought about waking her, but decided he wasn't ready for a grumpy Gabriella. Then he noticed she hadn't had lunch.

An hour later, Gabriella popped up.

She looked around the room frantically, guilt flooding her delicate features. Then she noticed Troy, sitting on the couch in her room, smiling knowingly.

She was not ready for this. She was sleepy. She was grumpy. She had an headache and she was hungr—

"There's food on your desk," said Troy, as if reading her mind.

She looked up, and stared at the tray sitting harmlessly on her desk. Her favourite, ceasar salad, was in front of her.

"Is it poisonous?" she asked immediately. Then she lifted her hand to her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Who said I brought it for you?" he asked dully, lifting his hand carelessly.

_Because not even my fiancé knows I like this salad, _she answered. But decided to humor him.

"Good then," she declared, still confused about why Troy had bought her lunch. She tenderly picked up the fork and uncovered the lid.

She forked some into her mouth.

"So why was I supposed to come watch you sleep, instead of being with the kids?" he asked, regrettably noticing the blush coming onto her face.

It made her look innocent. Vulnerable even.

She swallowed the food down before replying.

"I'm sor—," she started, but apparently changed her mind. "You could have woken me," she snapped suddenly.

Troy rolled his eyes. Figures, it was his fault again.

"It's not my problem you sleep on the job. It's actually your boss' problem."

She put down her fork and rubbed her temples wearily. Then she pulled open her drawers, searching frantically. "Damn," she breathed. "Where's it?"

"Let's just get on with this can we? I would like to get out of here," he continued, annoyed at her lack of reaction. Sometimes he liked to see her worked up.

She slammed the drawers shut, apparently unsuccessful in her search. "I was thinking maybe you wanted to spend some one on one time with certain kids. You know, the sicker ones."

She wearily sighed and rummaged through the papers on her desk, finally pulling out three files. "It's you choice really," she said tightly.

But the fact that she was already holding the files pretty much meant he had no choice. He wasn't planning to refuse anyways.

"Sure," he said, shrugging. Gabriella had expected him to complain. She tossed the files to him and gestured at the door.

"I'm not going to be here next week by the way," he said before getting up, "sorry if you won't have a punching bag two weeks from now."

"I know, you're going on the road with your team," she replied absentmindedly while scribbling down some notes. _Old habits die hard, _he thought, as he watched her nibble on her bottom lip while thinking. She wrote furiously, it was like when she took notes in high school.

She suddenly looked up, catching his staring. "What're you looking at Bolton?" she said sharply, "and for your information, I'll be much happier without the punching bag."

"Glad to be of service then," he replied without missing a beat, "and, I'm glad you pay attention to my games. I wonder if you watch them. You never were really interested in basketball—"

Aware that she had let something slip, she snapped back. "People change." Then she paused. "Or…" she said slowly, "maybe you just never knew me at all." It was an attack. She was saying she never really knew him, and Troy knew it.

He ignored her though.

"Did you see my dunk last game?" he asked casually. In fact, Gabriella did see it, but refused to admit it.

"What do you think?" she asked, raising one brow. "Honestly, I have better things to do than watch _you."_

"You're loss then," he replied, clearly unaffected. "Some girls said I looked quite…sexy with that move. You wouldn't happen to be one of those girls would you?" He leaned in close to her. Close enough to hear her heavy breathing.

"The only thing I think you are, _Troy Bolton, _is disgusting. Now get out of my office," she said in a low voice. It was a command.

Troy loved it when her eyes flashed. He had always loved it. He loved it because her eyes were usually so warm and loving—it was such a change to see them so furious and cold. But now, he rather liked them warm and loving. He was seeing too much of her angry eyes.

As he left, he looked back. Gabriella had her eyes closed, her head in her hands. She had always worked too hard back in high school, and it appeared that that hadn't changed either. In fact, Troy was beginning to notice that a lot of things hadn't changed about her.

Still, back then, Troy had been the one to divert her attention from studying. Now, who did it when he was gone?

When Gabriella finally opened her eyes, Troy was gone. But he had left something at her table.

A bottle of advil.

A peace offering? She doubted it. But still…

_Oh, thank god. _She silently thought, before popping one into her mouth.


	5. Some Nice Crunchy Paper

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Note: Please review!**

**Next Chapter will mostly be in Troy's point of view I think, as this one's mostly in Gabriellas.**

**I'll say what happened 4 years ago in the next. or next next chapter. I PROMISE.**

**I have EXAMS ( like...next week though, so the next update might be a while. Sorry. **

* * *

The candles burned brightly in the dark room, casting a soft glow all around. The deep maroon wall curtains made the room feel homely and grand at the same time.

Gabriella took a sip of her wine, tasting the bitterness in her mouth. She held back a grimace. She had always preferred beer to wine.

"It's great," she lied.

"I was thinking we could serve that at out wedding," Johnny said eagerly from across the table before taking a sip from his own glass. "It's not too pricey either."

Gabriella smiled. "Perfect then." Her eyes roamed to room, finally landing on the bathroom door. "Excuse me," she said, before pushing out of the chair.

Her knee length black dress swayed elegantly as she strode purposefully towards the washroom. The excitement of her engagement had long since left her. Apparently, it had yet to leave her fiancé.

"Fiancé," she whispered, tasting the words on her lips.

Oddly, since she had moved to New York, she had never quite considered when her marriage was to be. She had been too caught up in the whirlwind of event going on around her. But now, as she settled in, the m-word came up more and more often in her mind.

Gabriella looked at herself in the mirror as she washed her hands. She wasn't as young as she used to be—that was visible in her face—but she wasn't really ready for marriage either. Still, she decided, she would make it work for Johnny.

She returned to her seat just as the main course arrived. She cut a piece of her delicately grilled salmon.

"So," she began, saying the first thing that came to her mind, "did you see the Knicks game the other night?" She cringed inwardly. Three sweet weeks without Troy, and she just _had_ to ruin it.

"I seriously don't know when you got so into basketball," said Johnny, looking at her suspiciously.

"Don't be silly, I've always liked it," she responded easily, cutting another piece of salmon. _I was not checking on Troy. I was not checking on Troy. I like basketball. I like basketball. _Those were the thoughts that she drilled into herself.

"No, I remember because I had these great tickets to a game when we were in college, but you blatantly refused to go," he said thoughtfully. Gabriella remembered that too. At that time, the very thought of basketball made her heart break inside. That was why she had refused to go.

"I must've been sick," she answered. "So did you see the game?"

"Yeah I did, at work. Troy Bolton was amazing. Knicks were lucky to have gotten him."

Gabriella almost choked on her food.

"Troy Bolton?" she burst.

Johnny looked at her as if she was crazy. "Troy Bolton…you know…Knick's new player? Rookie that scored over 20 points last game?"

She coughed, calming herself. "Right, Troy."

"Are you feeling alright Gabriella?" he asked, worry invading his voice. She nodded. She didn't know why she had thought he wouldn't know Troy.

"You sure?"

She smiled, "I'm sure."

"Hey! Didn't you say once that a Bolton was invading you workplace. By Bolton, you didn't happen to mean—"

"NO!" she shouted causing the people around her to stare. "Well, yes," she said in a quieter tone, "but I don't really want to talk about it."

"You work with _Troy Bolton _and you didn't _tell _me?" he asked incredulously.

She shrugged sheepishly. "It never came up." And she had worked hard to keep it that way.

"You think you can get his autograph for me?" he asked excitedly.

Gabriella rolled her eyes, shuddering at the thought of asking Troy for an autograph. Not in a lifetime.

"Ask him yourself," she said immediately, "he lives beside us."

"WHATT?!" yelled Johnny, getting a warning look from one of the waiters. One more outburst and the two of them would be out of there.

Gabriella winced. That wasn't meant to come out.

"So, the weather's been great around here lately eh?" she said. _Next time, _she thought, _stick to the weather. _

* * *

Over the week, she unwillingly found herself missing _something. _

She had sworn she would eat paper before she would ever miss the bastard, so Gabriella decided it must've been…the gloomy rain.

_That's it, _she concluded with a smile, _it's just been too damn sunny since he's been gone. I'm just missing the rain. _

"Hey Gabriella," greeted Lizzy. Her friend was the secretary at the clinic she worked at every Tuesday and Thursday.

"Hey Liz," returned Gabriella happily. She was walking towards the door to her room before she was interrupted by her friend.

"Aren't you glad the weathers been so _absolutely wonderful? _No more of that blasted rain you had been complaining about before."

Lizzy unknowingly had just burst Gabriella's happy bubble.

"Yeah," she said slowly and bitterly, "No more blasted rain."

Then she slammed her door.

"Okay," she forced out, inhaling a deep calming breath. "This is not happening."

She nodded slowly before walking to her desk. "This is not happening," she repeated.

"Who am I kidding?" she muttered as she looked out the window. The sky was blue, there were a few scatter clouds, the sun was bright and warm, and all in all, it was _perfect _weather. "Bring out the salt and pepper, I'm going to have a nice crunchy lunch," she said, sinking into her seat, "of paper."

Every time she stepped out of her apartment door over the next week, she found herself anticipating a bump in with Troy.

Then, she would have to remind herself that he was on the other side of the country and that she, in fact, was glad he was gone.

After a while, she had to admit that she really did miss him. Troy was like her bad habit. She couldn't kick him out of her life, no matter how hard she tried.

By the time next Monday rolled around, Gabriella found the day oddly uncomfortable. The children definitely missed him. Some had even cried when Gabriella told them he wouldn't be here this week. She had quickly promised that he would be back next time.

She couldn't seem to escape his presence. At home. At work.

And as if that wasn't enough, Gabriella found that a nice new billboard poster had been posted along the path that she often frequented for walks. And guess who would be on that nice new _big _poster? Apparently, New York City just couldn't get enough of their new star rookie. Nike had signed him on as an endorser, and now his face was everywhere. And by everywhere, Gabriella meant _everywhere. _

Gabriella sighed.

"Ella! Is somefing wong?" asked Melinda, one of the older girls in the nursery. She had recently lost her two front teeth.

"No," she smiled, "Thank you for asking though. And for your reward, you can choose the story to read this time."

A bundle of 'aww's resounded throughout the room. "Next time guys," laughed Gabriella.

She watched as Melinda jumped up eagerly and raced as fast as she could to the bookshelf. Gabriella was proud of Melinda. When she had first been admitted into the hospital, the girl had barely been able to make it. She had been scared of everybody. She had refused to eat, drink and talk—all because of her so called 'parents'.

Gabriella looked around the room, mentally calculating how many of these kids had come to this hospital because of abuse. Too many.

"Lat time, Twoy stawted dis story," said Melinda, proudly presenting the book 'Sleeping Beauty' to Gabriella.

"Alright," said Gabriella, taking the book from the girl. "Where were you guys at?"

Melinda eagerly replied, "De print!"

"Print?" asked Gabriella. "Prince?"

Melinda nodded and sat down at Gabriella's feet.

"Okay then. So, the prince had to come and rescue Sleeping Beauty," she began. "Yes, Jamie?"

"Are princes real?"

"N—," Gabriella said, changing her mind last minute. Her dreams had been broken, but it didn't mean all these childrens' had to be too. "If you believe in them, then they're real."

"Do you believe them Miss Ella?" asked a boy.

Gabriella considered. "I used to," she smiled sadly. "I used to." Her prince had been Troy—but time had taught her that there was no such thing as a prince. Time and experience had taught her that.

She shook the thought out of her head. "Are you ready for the story kids?"

After reading, she headed back to her room as per usual. Along the way, she picked up a magazine lying innocently in the hospital waiting area.

As she sat in her chair, she thumbs through the book.

_Britney Spears recently lost custody of—_

She flipped the page.

_Greenhouse gasses heavily impacting the environment. _

She read through that article.

_Reese Witherspoon voted most likeable female celebrity. Paris Hilton voted least._

Gabriella laughed and flipped the page.

_Troy Bolton._

She snapped the magazine closed and threw it onto the couch in her room.

Everywhere was Troy Bolton. Troy Bolton was everywhere.

Some time later, she opened her eyes, deciding that she needed to finish the progress results on Melinda in the next hour.

She picked through the piles of paper on her desk, looking for the file about Melinda.

Gabriella picked paper after paper off her desk, organizing them as she went.

"Ah ha," she triumphed, pulling out the file. While doing that, she knocked over a tiny little bottle on her desk.

She cleared off a space to work on her desk with one hand as she returned the bottle to its upright position.

Gabriella looked up to see what the bottle was.

There, in the middle of her desk, was the bottle of advils. She scrutinized it with her eyes.

It stared back at her—mocking her.

Clearly, Troy Bolton had planned this all out. Just to spite her.

Damn him.

Damn advil.

Damn, damn, damn.


	6. A Little Too Late

**Both the song Tattoo(which I used for the title) and High School Musical are not mine. And I really don't care. I just sorta sometimes which Zac Efron was. **

**Oh well.**

**Alrighty then, on with it. Sorry for the delay, but the next chapter might literally not be up until next Friday. My exams start midway this week so yeah.**

**Btw, I personally love CSI.**

**And I hope you like it. Maybe? Yes? No? REVIEW!**

And again. Read my other story, it's a James/Lily Harry Potter fanfic!

* * *

Troy Bolton sighed, picking up the hem of his jersey with one hand to wipe the sweat glistening on his face.

"What's wrong man?" asked his teammate, coming up with the basketball from behind.

He shook his head and flashed a grin. "Nothing."

"You sure? Big game tonight against Portland."

Troy frowned. "Right man, no worries." He put both his hands on the orange ball, feeling the rubbery material on his finger pads. "Right," he repeated, tossing the ball from one hand to the other. Then he raised his hands and took a shot.

All net.

It wasn't his game that was bothering him. He had barely missed a shot all day. But something had been nagging at his side like a rock in a shoe since the first day he had left New York with his team.

The problem was, he didn't know what the…well…problem was. He had never been homesick before. Technically, New York had only been his home for a few months. And true, this was to be his longest road trip with the team—a little over 2 weeks—it wasn't as if he had never traveled out of New York for games before. So what was different this time?

He wandered over to the bench and picked up a bottle of water and a towel. He draped the towel over his neck as he felt the refreshing coolness ease down his throat.

_It was probably nothing, _he decided. Troy picked up his sports bag and rummaged through, trying to find his cell phone. The coach had called a break.

He pushed away many pieces of clothing, another bottle of water, a bottle of advil…

Troy paused and smiled at the memory.

He didn't know why he had done it. She just seemed like she needed it. And when he saw her scrounging in such a tired and frustrated manner through her drawers, he just seemed to _know _she wanted the medicine. It was like instinct kicking in.

Troy long ago had learned to keep a bottle of advil in his gym bag and since he had come from an early practice that day, he had had one on him.

_Gabriella, _he thought, edging to taste the word on his lips. Maybe it was her that was causing the constant uncomfortable feeling in his body.

But…_no,_ he reprimanded himself._ Just, no. _

He gave up his search for the phone, figuring he left it in his coat. Just as he zipped up his bag once again, he heard the whistle blow.

Back to practice.

* * *

Gabriella pulled a can of coke from the fridge. Then, with the coke in hand, she leaned down and peered deeper into the shelves.

"Orange Juice, Coke, Root Beer, Beer and Water," she yelled, feeling the cool air against her warm skin.

She faintly heard a reply, and pulled out a can of Root Beer before slamming the door shut. She placed the drinks on the kitchen counter and grabbed a large bowl from the cupboard.

As the popcorn was yet to be ready, she jumped to sit on the counter, drumming her fingers on the edge.

Tonight it would be just her and Johnny. Since Gabriella had just began her job a while back, she had always been busy, trying to establish a good reputation. Johnny as well, had been having late nights lately due to his new project at the office. Today, they had both promised to come home early and spend the night watching marathons on TV like they used to, with some good old-fashioned buttered popcorn.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

Gabriella nearly fell off the edge of the counter at that sudden alarm. She slipped back onto the ground and opened the microwave. Carefully, she picked up the bag from the corners and attempted to feel it open.

"Ow," she muttered, popping her finger into her mouth as she felt the hot steam rise from the small opening.

After wrestling a few minutes with the bag of popcorn, she managed to empty the contents into the bowl.

She sauntered back into the living room with the three items in hand. "Look what I've got," she began, setting the objects onto the coffee table. She displayed the popcorn to Johnny. "The master does it again!" she declared happily, gazing at the golden fluffy pieces filling the bowl. "Not a single burnt piece!"

She took her place beside him on the couch. As she turned to grab a pillow from the side, Johnny put his hand into the bowl.

"Ouch!" he screamed, quickly retreating from the offendingly hot food.

Gabriella simply tossed him a pillow and rolled her eyes. "You knew it'd be hot," she said.

"Yeah, but I just found that I had to burst your bubble," he replied happily, holding out his hand that he had just placed in the bowl in a fist.

"What's in there?" she asked, prying his hand open. He pulled away, then got on his one knee.

Gabriella raised her eyebrows. "Haven't we don't this before?" she laughed, slapping his hand lightly.

He opened his fist.

"Very funny."

"It's black!" he replied triumphantly, "Oh, and look. There's even some kernels here."

"Ha. Ha," replied Gabriella, a smile tugging at her lips as she pretended to be bored.

"Aw, I know you found that funny," he said, pouting at her happily.

She shook her head and smiled. It hadn't been like this for a while.

"So," she began, "what are we going to watch?"

He flipped the TV on, leaning into the couch and pulling the blanket over himself and Gabriella.

"There's a CSI marathon tonight," he replied. He felt Gabriella's head shake as she rested it on her shoulder.

"That show scares me. Murder. Dead people. The list goes on."

Johnny groaned. "But I love CSI," he whined. "Please, please, please don't make me watch a Gilmore Girls marathon again. I won't be able to take it!"

"Fine, no Gilmore Girls," chuckled Gabriella.

Johnny wrapped his arm around her petite waist and whispered in her ear, "please?"

"No," she said firmly. "I'll have nightmares."

"But, but—"

"Anything but that!" she replied quickly, cutting him off. She almost wanted to relent at his crestfallen expression, but the sudden on slash of horrific images crossed her mind.

Truth be told, she had never really watched a full episode before. But really, how non-gruesome can a show about murder be?

Not only that, sometimes the content on the show that she caught snippets of seemed too close to some of the cases she dealt with. For many people, things that happened on shows like that were made up to them—contrived and plotted. But for Gabriella, she knew that it really _did _happen in real life. It just seemed too real.

Suddenly, she caught the change in expression on Johnny's face.

"Well?" she asked, waiting expectantly for him to share his newfound brilliance with her.

"Well…" he said slowly, "the Knicks are playing Portland tonight."

"But—"

"You _did _say we could watch anything but CSI," he pointed out correctly.

"But I didn't mean—"

"And just the other night at dinner, you said you've always liked basketball," he said quickly, putting up a reasonable argument.

Gabriella sputtered. He was right.

She relented and tossed the remote over to him.

So much for a night for two. Now it could be, Johnny, her, and none other than the famous Troy Bolton.

* * *

"I'm open!" yelled Troy, spacing himself away from his defender. The point-guard nodded and passed the ball to him.

Troy caught the ball and stepped back, sending the ball flying towards the rim.

It rolled around the circle before dropping into the net.

"And it's good." shouted the announcer unenthusiastically. They _were _playing at the other teams home court, so Troy didn't expect any different. "84-80 Portland. And the Knicks call a time out."

The whistle blew, as expected, and Troy jogged towards the bench along with the other four players on the court.

He arrived first. "Troy," said the coach quickly, "take a break. I'm putting Nelson in now."

Troy nodded thankfully, and stretched his aching arms. He had been playing since the beginning of the quarter and his muscles were screaming inside his body.

New York had been down 10, but they had just scored 6 points to the other teams 0. They had a chance now.

Troy looked at the clock. 5 minutes. Plenty of time.

He looked around the stadium, catching sight of a bunch of young kids with their faces painted holding up colour signs cheering on their home team.

One of the girls had brown wavy hair.

He briefly wondered if Gabriella was watching the game.

Troy doubted it. She had made it pretty clear last time they had seen each other that she wouldn't "waste" her time watching him. And even though he passed the comment off with a joke, he couldn't erase the tiny imprint it made on his heart.

Nevertheless, it was fair revenge.

He had watched her heart shatter into pieces once upon a time—all because of him. He had regretted it. The moment he was the anguished, heartbroken look on her face, he had wished he never spoken. But what was done was done. In that instant, he knew he would have rather faced the devil himself in hell than see that pained look on her beautiful face. He figured that would be where he would go anyways.

He had been a fool.

An idiot.

An imbecile.

Gabriella probably hated him for it. Correction, she _did _hate him for it. The thing with her was that she wouldn't be afraid to hide her opinions from a person. In many ways, she was and wasn't that shy, caring girl he had met on the cruise so many years ago—the girl that he had, at one point, fallen in love with.

But he had realized that a second too late.

Going out with her at first had been just another way to show his superiority over the school. And no matter how arrogant that sounded, Troy knew it was true. If he went out with her, he would shock all his friends, and the whole school. Troy, the basketball star, with a quiet, shy bookworm. He wanted to see how people would react—if they would accept it, just because he was…Troy. Not only that, but she was a challenge, and Troy Bolton loved challenges.

In the end, she turned out to be so much more. She was a challenge, yes, but she was fun, loving, caring, smart…and all that at the same time.

Troy wasn't blind too all that. He knew. But he refused to believe that he had fallen in love with Gabriella. He admitted to caring about her. To liking her. But love? It was a foreign word on his tongue. It was like an English person speaking Chinese. It wasn't impossible, but so so unlikely.

Troy continued going out with her, for almost two years. He had continued to give himself excuses. _He wanted to see how long the school could take it, _he remembered telling himself. He laughed out loud at the foolishness because Troy knew very well that his ex-classmates had taken it all in stride.

But one day. One day, he ran out of excuses. It was prom night. A special night for every high school student. And he ruined it for Gabriella.

He didn't know what possessed him that fateful night, but he told his friends that she wasn't really anything. He told them about his plan to test the school and all that shit.

Not only that. He told them while she was standing right there, tears running freely down her face.

And it was at that moment, he knew he had fallen hopelessly in…_love. _

Then, it was the moment after that he knew he had ruined it.

There was no one to blame but him. Him, his pride, and him.

"Troy, you're in for Jamieson," shouted the coach, taking Troy out of his unhappy memories. Troy cringed.

He heard the announcer. "And it looks like Troy Bolton is back in the game, replacing number 23, Jamieson."

"I knew the coach wasn't going to bench him for the rest of the game!" shouted Johnny, taking another sip of his drink. "He probably just needed a rest."

Gabriella nodded, letting her heavy eyelids have their way.

Just as she was about to drift off though, Johnny shouted.

"That has got to be a foul! Bolton is on the ground!"

Gabriella's eyes flew open immediately.

"Troy!" she shouted, knocking her drink onto the floor. She didn't notice.

"No! Troy!"


	7. Fools like Me

**It's been over a week since I last updated. I'm SO sorry. I assure you guys. PROMISE. That that will never happen again.**

**It's just, I've been caught up with my exams (which aren't that hard, but are so so annoying), and studying and my presentations.  
But that will finish on Thursday!:)  
And so…..after that. I shall have regular updates. **

**Apologize again!**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Later that night, Gabriella contemplated her reaction as she lay in bed waiting for sleep to consume her.

Johnny had been surprised, to say the least. He had frowned at her, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, and in a normal situation, Gabriella would have noticed. But with Troy lying motionless on the ground, even through the television, her whole body seemed to tense up. Her face paled, her thoughts scrambled, her heart rate sped. She couldn't think. She couldn't move.

In retrospect, Gabriella couldn't remember how long she had stayed frozen, simply staring at the spot on the screen. When she had finally regained control of herself, she had fumbled for her phone, immediately dialing the number she had memorized so long ago. It was no longer his number.

Gabriella turned on her side to face the man in her bed and laughed sadly. She was a fool. Gabriella had always prided herself in being a smart, independent aspiring woman. But now she knew better. She was but a fool. A fool because she had remembered his phone number when she had promised herself to banish him from her thoughts. She was a fool because just the sight of him hurt was like somebody wrenching her heart out.

Not for the first time, she wondered what she was doing with Johnny. He deserved better. He truly deserved better than a girl like her.

Unable to bear the sight of him, the guilt in herself, she slid out from beneath the covers. Quietly, she treaded across the room and sat on the windowsill, her head against the pane of glass. It was refreshingly cold against her warm skin.

Outside was a blanket of darkness. From her height, she could see the faint glow of the streetlamps below, but other than that, it was pitch black.

She reached over to the nearby table and picked up the phone. Slowly, painfully, she traced the digits with her fingers. She traced the 2, the first number from his old number. Then the next. Then the next. Anguish was etched on her face.

The man sleeping in her bed—in _their _bed—let out a gentle snore. Gabriella looked up. She walked over and moved to place her hand against his cheek, but millimeters away…she stopped.

An epiphany came to her, hitting her like a ton of bricks. It made her stomach fall to the ground and her eyes widen in fear and tear in sorrow.

Her hand snapped back, as if it had been burned.

She cared about Johnny. She liked Johnny. She would hurt if he were hurt. She would cry if he were gone.

But Troy.

She loved Troy. She would _die _if _he_ were gone.

Gabriella wanted to laugh. To cry. To smile. To run.

_Yes, _she thought miserable, crawling back into the bed, _she was a fool._

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It had been almost a week since Gabriella's revelation and she had done everything in her power to abandon it. She had installed blinds into her office at the hospital, covering the billboard in her sight. She had waken up at offending hours, just to make lunch for herself so she wouldn't have to run into any posters of him outside. She had even taken to using Tylenol instead of Advil.

Sacrifices had to be made. They were essential for success. And Gabriella _needed _to succeed. She strived to put some distance between herself and Troy.

_Johnny was the right guy for her. He was the one._

That's what she told herself at least.

But then, a little part of her would always ask: _Then why doesn't it feel right? Why did it feel right with Troy?_

She had learned to ignore that part of her, and in time, it began to work.

That is, until said person limped his way into the room. But luckily, Gabriella had expected this to happen. She had braced herself. She was ready—

Suddenly, Troy lost his footing on one of his crutches and fell ungracefully onto her couch, which was conveniently behind him.

She sprang up, rushing to his side.

What was she thinking before again? Bracing herself? Right. What a lie.

"Are you okay?" She bent down to pick up the crutches strewn onto the ground. They clinked loudly as she brought them together—contrasting against the silence in the room.

"Yeah," he told her, "it's nothing big."

Gabriella was unconvinced, but didn't think it was in her right to continue pressing. He seemed to notice this.

"Sprained my left leg," he elaborated. "It should be better in a week. A week and a half at most. The coach doesn't want to push it."

Gabriella felt like a schoolgirl on her first date. Except…it wasn't a date. She was a professional worker, who had a temporary volunteer sitting in front of her. _A temporary volunteer whom she was supposed to hate,_ she reminded herself.

"Smart coach," she said, forcing herself to sound casual. She heard her own frosty voice, and wondered how she could sound like that when inside, she was burning.

Troy was disappointed. For a moment, he had thought she truly cared. Troy guessed that that was just hopeful thinking.

He desperately wanted to talk to her like they used to. He _knew _that was hopeful thinking.

He tightened his grip on the bag he was holding as a sudden rupture of pain shot through his body. He gritted his teeth, his face tensing. As suddenly as it came, it left and he released a breath.

He looked up to find her staring at him, and for the briefest of moments, he caught a flash of something familiar in her eyes. Care? Love?

He convinced himself it was merely pity.

Troy hated to be pitied.

"Let's just go," he snapped at nothing in particular. She was clearly confused, but obliged anyways.

She held out his crutches, which she still had in her hands. "Need help?" she offered quietly.

_Definitely pity, _thought Troy. "Not from you."

He roughly grabbed the crutches and began his slow limp to the nursery.

Gabriella stood in shock for a moment. Where had the kind Troy gone? She shook her head and caught up to him. It was better this way.

She was a few steps behind him now, and she watched as he struggled with the crutches. She had been on crutches before, and from experience, she knew how bothersome they could be. And painful. She winced as he grimaced from pain when he used the crutches to support him from the armpits.

She wanted to help him. She could hold the crutches and support him with her body. It would take a little longer, but it wouldn't hurt him nearly as much. But he had made it pretty clear he didn't need help. Not from her at least.

There were a few things Gabriella was an expert at. And although she didn't want to admit it. There was a time when she knew Troy like the back of her hand. Their time together may not have been real. His feelings for her may not have been real. Gabriella bit her lip. But….he had been real.

Troy Bolton hated to be pitied. And that…was surely what he was feeling right now.

Besides, Gabriella didn't want to know what his touch would make her feel. What his touch would do to her.

She forced herself to breeze past him, resolving not to give him a single glance. It was hard.

She pushed open the door to the nursery, and knowing that he was but a few steps behind, she discreetly kicked a small chair to prop the door open for him. He didn't notice.

"What happened to you Twoy!" A couple of kids rushed to his side, although they were careful enough not to touch him. Most of these young kids knew what it was like to be hurt.

He smiled genuinely. "Troy was clumsy and fell," he said, referring to himself in third person.

He tried to sit in his usual chair, but as it was a kids chair, it was too low for him to reach without help.

Gabriella sighed and watched him try again. _For the kids, _she told herself. She went over to him and took his arm.

She almost released it as she felt a spark tingle her skin. Instead, she tightened her grip. Troy regarded her cautiously.

"Let me help you," she said softly. After a while, he nodded curtly and handed one of his crutches to her. She dropped it on the ground and put both hands on him, gently easing him into the chair.

But as he was almost there, Gabriella couldn't resist. She let go. He landed with a _oomph! _

The children burst out with laughter—Gabriella as well. Troy looked at all the people laughing at him, and couldn't help but join in.

When everybody finally stopped, Gabriella's distinct laughter still rang through his head. He didn't know how much he missed it until now. He hadn't heard that laugh in such a long time. She had never laughed in his presence since they reunited. At one point, he had wondered if he had destroyed her will to laugh.

"We missed you!" screamed the children as they took a seat in front of him.

"I missed you guys too!" he mimicked. Gabriella chuckled from the corner of the room as she eyed the papers in her hand. She felt a pair of eyes bore into her skin. She had no doubt whose those belonged to.

She ignored them, choosing instead to continue reading.

_Name: Marie Evans._ Next line.

_Name: Marie Evans. _Okay.

_Name: Marie Evans. _Okay.

_Name: Marie Evans._

Gabriella shook her head, realizing she had been reading the same line over and over again. Thankfully, the piercing eyes had left her.

She stretched, swinging her right leg over her left.

Troy was so good with the kids. She marveled at how much happier many of them were every time the saw him.

But then again, he always had been good with kids.

She smiled when he planted a kiss on little Elizabeth's forehead. He shook his head a little to shake his brown hair out of his eyes. Then he smiled, and Gabriella's mutinous heart skipped a beat. Her mind was clear though.

Once upon a time, she had dreamed that maybe they would have kids together. She had been sure Troy would be a great dad and she had hoped she would be a great mom.

Maybe that hadn't changed—but Gabriella no longer dreamed of a future with Troy. It would be too much. There was too much to forget. And too little reason to try.

Some may say there was a reason. She loved him. Wasn't that reason enough?

But to Gabriella, the answer was no. She had given him her heart once. He had broken it. Stomped on it. Tore it to shreds ruthlessly. She wasn't about to do that again.

"Gabi—riella?" stuttered Troy, almost slipping by habit.

She didn't notice, or didn't appear to notice. She just stared at him dully.

Didn't Gabriella say she didn't watch his games? Was she lying? "You let them watch my game the other night?" His tone was accusing and he had a perplexed look on his face. One that she had always loved. That made the comment all the more offensive.

"Yes," she answered shortly.

"I thought…"

"I don't watch your games," she lied, refusing to let him know she had watched almost every single one of his games, "but that doesn't mean I'm the bit—beehive who'll take that away from these kids just because I don't want to see you okay?" She pulled her papers together and stood up.

"No, no!" He softened his tone. "I didn't mean that you would…I just…"

"Yes Mr. Bolton?"

"Troy," he answered immediately. He looked up. "Always Troy," he said firmly.

"Troy," she acknowledged. She didn't think she could call him Mr. Bolton anyways. It felt odd on her tongue.

"I'm sorry." He looked so sincere that she didn't know what to do. For a moment, she thought he was sorry for something else. Maybe for what happened before. But she didn't want to get her hopes up. It wouldn't make a difference.

In fact, Troy _was _saying sorry for everything he had done in the past. He doubted Gabriella would pick up on that though.

Troy watched as her eyebrows furrowed, a sure sign that she was deep in though. She raised her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. It was something she did when she was nervous.

Troy stared, hoping to pick out any emotion that would appear on her face. He felt her internal struggle to keep her face blank.

"Fine," she said at last.

Troy smiled sadly. How had things come like this?

"Stay." He gestured at the children in the room—but never at himself. "These people want you to."

Gabriella shook her head. She noticed that he didn't point at himself, and she felt her heart tug. And no matter how many times she repeated to herself that it didn't matter, she wished he would have.

"I should go work," she announced. She usually left the moment he was with the kids, but today, she just…she didn't know why she stayed.

She turned to leave and Troy scrambled to get up. Every time he tried though, the weight on his ankle would hurt so much that he would end up back on the chair.

"Wait!" he called. "I want you to stay." He tried again.

Gabriella let herself smile. She turned around and rolled her eyes. "Well…"

He looked so hopeful.

"I guess you'll need someone to help you up."

Troy nodded his head profusely—agreeing unabashedly. "Definitely," he decided. "Or I'll be sleeping on this chair tonight," he joked.

Gabriella tried to laugh, but found that she just wasn't ready to share jokes with him. He understood and redirected his attention to the kids.

"Guess what?" he shouted enthusiastically.

"What?" they returned.

"I brought you all presents from my trip." He shook the bag that he had carried in. He smiled at Gabriella and was happy to see her lips twitch.

He handed out the presents as the kids lined up one by one. Finally, there was one left. It was a small teddy bear.

He wondered if it was the right thing to do.

"Gabriella," he called softly. She stood up from within the crowd of excited children showing their new stuffed animals to her.

He held out the bear. "I got one for you."

The bear was holding a small little heart, with the words _I missed you _stitched in. Troy wanted to tell her that he _did _miss her.

But—she was engaged. You don't miss engaged women. Especially when you're not her betrothed.

She seemed hesitant to take it. He pushed it into her hands and looked away.

She looked down at the toy in her hand. "Thank you Troy," she whispered.

Still with his eyes on the wall, he asked, "You can miss friends right?"

Gabriella looked at him in disbelief.

Who was he to do that to her? She was forgetting about him. Admittedly, it wasn't working very well—but she was trying.

He finally turned towards her, waiting expectantly. Each second seemed to last forever. Each moment, his eyes dulled, and his shoulders sagged just a notch.

"I—I…"

It would be so much harder to distance herself from him if they were friends. It was just easier to pretend to hate him. To be mean to him.

There were so many reasons that told her to simply say 'No, we aren't friends.' She was afraid that if they became friends, she would lose herself. She couldn't hurt Johnny like that.

_Oh god, Johnny. _

And, how could she be friends with someone she had sworn to hate.

How could she forgive him?

Many more reasons ran through her mind. Hundreds.

Opposite that, only one reason told her to accept the peace offering. And that was that…she loved him. That was the truth, whether she chose to act on it or not.

And no matter how much he hurt her, she never wanted to be the one to hurt him.

"Yes," she said, wrapping her small hands around the bear, "yes you can."

**A/N: So in this chapter, we find that Gabriella admits she loves Troy. But we also establish that she isn't about to do anything about it—rather she wants to hide from it. We have also established that they have become friends—or will try to.**

**Was this chapter confusing? Was it good?**

**I'm afraid LOL. Because it's Gabriella who's supposed to have mixed feelings, but now after writing it, I feel I have mixed feelings too.**


	8. Reminisce

**HSM is not mine.**

**I'm not sure if this is random. It's a little I guess. I just wanted to show you a flash of Troy's thoughts and wanted to show you how they began together. **

Ok. So here's some Troy for you all. 

**Next chappie will be about them being friends. Ever had a friend you just felt awkward around? Because you knew they liked you or you liked them?**

**) I'm thinking I'll do something like that. We'll see. Or suggestions are nice! Yeah? **

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW please! 

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It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

Troy only had one word for that.

_Hypocritical._

And maybe idiotic as well.

Because honestly, anyone who had ever loved and lost could tell you that that quotation was, for lack of better words, a load of crap. Whoever said those famous words had probably never fallen in love before.

Or been drunk when he or she said it.

Troy Bolton knew better.

He had loved. He had loved, and lost love. And he could tell you…it was better to have never loved at all.

He gently slid the pad of his thumb over the picture, worn and fading due to years of handling. The smooth glossy texture shined in the light as he lifted it up. This was Troy's favourite.

This one picture—containing two happy people with wind swept hair, pink noses and cheeks, smiling so contentedly that their eyes twinkled—was the only one of her that he had kept. It had been his companion over the years, his reprieve to know that there had been happy times. But in every way, it was a sign of his guilt. It was a punishment. It was the love that he had lost—in his grasp at one point.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. And sometimes, he wished it was. Then he would never make the mistake of losing her again.

_The dance was tonight—their very first dance as a couple. Troy was standing at the foot of her stairs, waiting nervously for his date to come down. He didn't know why he was feeling that way. It was, by no mean, their first date for they had been together for a month already. And besides, Troy Bolton never got nervous._

_He put that aside as anticipation for the looks on his friends' faces. He couldn't wait to see Sharpay's face in particular—it never failed to make him laugh._

_Troy didn't really know what to expect from his date tonight. He guessed she would primp a little and wear a modest, conservative dress. He wasn't expecting that much from her. He knew that the whole school was edging to see the not-so-spectacular nerd who became Troy Bolton's girlfriend._

_Troy concealed a smirk, checking the time on his watch. _

_It wasn't that she wasn't pretty, because Troy had long ago acknowledged that she did indeed possess beauty. And she always dressed well at school—nothing bold but nothing hideous. She wasn't the stereotypical bookworm, with thick rimmed glasses and big bulging braces. She was really just another girl—invisible and unnoticeable in the rush of high school life. Average._

_That was how Troy would normally describe his girlfriend._

_Average._

_The key word here would be normally, because the girl that had just stepped into view was nothing below spectacular._

_He gulped. _

_The words, _never judge a book by its cover _rang in his mind. They had never been so true._

_She took a tentative step down, her heels scraping against the hardwood stairs. She smiled hesitantly at him, watching the reaction on his face._

_He smiled back reassuringly and held out the flower in his hand. _

_"My lady."_

_She giggled. It wasn't the type of laugh he usually heard. Her laugh was music to his ears—it was genuine. Then she curtsied, her eyes filling with mirth as she stood back up._

_She was wearing a stunning dark purple cocktail dress that fit snuggly around her upper body, showing off her flat stomach and her natural curves. Her tanned shoulders were bare. She wasn't wearing a necklace of any sort, which drew Troy's eyes to her low strapless dress and cleavage._

_The dress was the epitome of upper class sexy, teasing but not revealing. Her dark mane of hair was up in a loose bun, purposely made messy to contrast the clean cut dress._

_And yet, even through this transformation, she remained herself—opting for little make up. Charcoal eyeliner, a touch of mascara, earthy blush and some lipgloss was all she had on._

_By now, she had reached the bottom of the stairs, her stiletto black heels clicking against the floor._

_Troy took a step back._

_"How do I look?" Her voice was quiet—like a child's in the dark. She took the rose from his hands appreciatively. A line of black bracelets jingled as she moved her small hands._

_"Absolutely beautiful," he replied without missing a beat. It wasn't a lie. He meant it with every ounce of his being._

_At this rate, he wasn't sure if he could keep up with his morals. He may be a bastard at times, but he would never push a girl into doing anything she didn't want. That was his one rule—but now, he was afraid he would break that rule._

_In any case, he took her hand and guided her to his car, promising her mother he'd have her back before midnight._

_Gabriella laughed when the door shut behind them._

_"Before midnight?"_

_He rose one perfect brow questioningly as they continued walking._

_"I don't know," she said thoughtfully as he opened the door for her. "It just sounds like Cinderella or something. Before the clock strikes twelve."_

_The door shut with a bang, and Troy walked to the other side._

_He got in beside her. "Well if you're Cinderella then who would I be?"_

_"The prince," she said, shrugging her shoulders carelessly. She heard the car rip to a start and watched as they left her house—her comfort zone. She clasped her hands together, unsure of what do to with them_

_"I'm no prince." Troy decided to be truthful, whether she would understand that truth or not. He fought to keep his eyes away from her, figuring it was better they arrive without accident._

_"And I'm no Cinderella, so that's okay," she admitted. She twiddled the flower in her hand, thinking of a way to continue conversation._

_"You know, roses aren't my favourite flower," she said thoughtfully. Then added quickly with a blush, "not that I don't appreciate it!"_

_He risked looking at her, admiring the natural pink of her face. It was a mistake as he had trouble tearing his eyes away._

_"It's okay." He realized just how much he didn't know her. To be honest, he hadn't really been trying to know her. "Why don't you like roses?"_

_She regarded his profile, and wondered briefly why he had chosen her. She had often considered it, but never had the courage to ask him. "Hmm?" she muttered, not catching the question._

_"Why don't you like them?"_

_"Oh, I don't know. They're pretty and all, but…they're so typical."_

_"Which do you like then?"_

_She thought for a moment. "Daffodils."_

_"Daffodils?"_

_"Or daisies. You know, the simple flowers," she decided._

_He nodded, intrigued by the girl beside him. Daffodils and daisies. He made a mental note._

_The car ride continued in comfortable silence._

Troy snapped out of his reverie. That had been the beginning of the amazing night. The first night that he had considered Gabriella more than just a conquest—whether he realized it or not.

There was not a moment in that night after they had arrived that Troy had considered what his classmates' reactions would be. It had simply disappeared from his mind.

Everyone had been surprised, wondering who Troy's date was. More than once, he had heard people wonder if this girl was new to the school. Troy and Gabriella had shared a secret smile at those remarks. Without being aware of it, Troy had been more focused on making her comfortable than anything else, diverting the attention away from her when he saw her feel uneasy.

He remembered their dance.

_"Troy," Gabriella whispered, he head against his strong, hard chest. _

_He instinctively pulled her closer to him. He made a noise in his throat to acknowledge that he had heard her._

_She looked up, her arms around his neck as they swayed to the slow music. "Do you want to go outside?"_

_He watched her nibble her bottom lip, unknowingly making him want to capture her mouth in his. But he knew she wasn't ready. She wasn't that type of girl and for some reason, Troy respected that and found it refreshing. Troy moved his hand that had been resting on the small of her back and brought it to her face, gently twirling the loose tendrils of her hair around his finger._

_"I want to go anywhere you go," he whispered, sending chills down her spine._

_She surprised him with her next action._

_She leaned on her toes, using him as her support, and planted a quick kiss on his chin, right under his lips. _

_Troy didn't know how to react, although his body did._

_He watched as red crept up her skin as she buried her face in his shoulder._

_"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He gently tucked his thumb under her chin and tilted her head up._

_"Um.." she began, looking around cautiously. She gestured for him to bend lower so she could whisper in his ear._

_He did._

_"I missed," she said, so softly that he barely heard. But he did, and he let out a chuckle. Gabriella frowned, pursing her lips as Troy laughed at her. "Are you done yet?" she asked impatiently._

_"You're just…so cute." He responded by kissing her lightly on the lips. "There."_

_Gabriella smiled against his lips. It was a short kiss. A promising kiss. A loving kiss._

_She looked over his shoulders after they pulled apart, and noticed the stares. She began to feel uncomfortable, and as a result, held Troy tighter._

_He noticed. He also noticed the lingering glances. "Let's get out of here."_

_Gabriella studied him for a moment. His eyes searched hers, awaiting an answer. She wanted to know if he truly didn't mind leaving—she knew she wouldn't._

_"Yeah," she nodded. "Let's go."_

It had truly been a magical night. The end was so much better. In retrospect, Troy wondered how they were able to escape that night. He never really understood how they were able to slip out unnoticed and honestly, he didn't care.

_Gabriella let go of their entwined hands as they reached the front of the building. She ran head, pushing through the doors and into the cool fresh air._

_"Hurry up Troy." She held the door, waiting for her boyfriend to catch up._

_"Coming, coming," he laughed. "You're in a rush."_

_She looked down. "It was just so…"_

_"Stuffy?" he asked. She nodded, glad that he understood. "I know. So now, where shall we continue this night?" he asked gallantly, sweeping her into his arms and twirling around foolishly._

_She shrieked with laughter, allowing herself to relax in his arms. Finally, as they stopped, Gabriella spotted a nearby park._

_Troy followed her gaze, watching as her eyes lit up._

"_The park?" Somewhere into the night, Troy had found himself doing anything to please his beautiful girlfriend._

_She turned towards him, and Troy found her with her lips forming a frown. "It's just that…"_

_Troy waited for her to continue, choosing not to press._

"_My feet hurt," she admitted softly. "I don't really like high heels."_

_Troy laughed. He couldn't ever remember laughing so much on a date before. He guided her to a bench. "Why'd you wear them then?"_

_She looked at him, bewildered. "I just thought..you'd like them?" She smiled. "Do you?"_

"_Not if they hurt." She watched abashedly as he slipped them off her feet. She tried to stop him, but he shook her hand off, reassuring her with a smile. Troy knew that Gabriella felt self conscious around him, and he didn't want her to continue feeling that way. "Damn things!" he yelled dramatically, as he took them off and pretended to throw them roughly to the ground. Gabriella burst into laughter, her embarrassment forgotten._

_Troy stood up, her shoes in hand, and turned around._

_After a while, he looked back to see Gabriella sitting, looking at him as if he were crazy. He pointed to his back. "Climb on."_

_Gabriella's lips parted, and a small oh escaped her lips. She was about to refuse, when she looked down at her aching feet._

_She threw her hands around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist at the same time. It was a little difficult with her dress. He held her lower thigh to support her, and began the trek to the park. "Hold on tight." Gabriella didn't have time to analyze his words._

"_Troooyyyyy!" screamed Gabriella, as she gripped on for her life. Troy had taken to sprinting the way there, with an uneasy girl on his back. He laughed._

_When she saw that he had no intention of slowing down, she dug her head into his neck and smiled, still holding on tightly._

_By the time they got there, Gabriella knew her hair was wildly blown. She knew she looked like a complete mess—but she also saw that Troy's boyish grin had never left his face. Without pausing to reconsider, she jumped off into the sand and ran to the swings, collapsing on the seat._

"_Come on!" she called, "Just throw the shoes by the side."_

_He nodded, and Gabriella wiggled her numbing toes as she waited. She buried her feet into the sand trying to keep them warm._

"_Troy!" She suddenly wanted to capture the brilliant moment. "Do you have your cell phone?"_

Troy smiled, leaning back into his couch. That was the moment they had taken the picture. They had spent the rest of the night in the cool autumn air, sitting together on the large swing watching the stars.

He tossed the picture lightly onto the coffee table in front of him, closing his eyes and rubbing the ache in his neck.

That had been so long ago.

Things had changed between then and now. For one, Gabriella was engaged.

Half of Troy wanted to make Gabriella see the mistake she was making. But the other half of him couldn't justify that she was making a mistake at all.

Troy had met her fiancé just this morning. His name was Johnny. Troy had been coming home this morning when they ran into each other outside.

They had talked briefly. An awkward encounter on Troy's side. It was obvious the other man knew nothing of his fiancée's past. But still, as much as Troy hated to admit it, he was good for her. And as her _friend, _which he had proposed just the other day, he should be happy for her. This was the reason he had picked up the photo.

Troy knew that he should forget about it—about them. He had tried. He had dated other girls, been in other relationships—but nothing could quite compare. After each one, he would take out the picture. And during each new relationship, he would store the picture away.

Now, with Gabriella back in his life, the photo had found a constant home on his night table. It didn't feel right to date other women anymore.

He should have gone after her immediately after he realized his mistake. He should have apologized. Made her understand. But he had been ashamed of his actions.

And then, a week after, she had disappeared, heading off to university early in order to avoid him.

She went her way.

And Troy went his.

Now it was too late. Troy honestly didn't want to believe that—but he knew he had no right interfering with her life anymore.

He had had his time; his chance.

He had hurt her.

And now he had to let her go.

He knew Gabriella still didn't like working with him. He knew she still held back from him. But they would become _friends—_Troy would try his hardest to make sure of that.

Troy stood up and picked up the photo, returning it to it's home.

It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

That was a lie if he ever had anything to say about it.


	9. It's Just a Feeling

**HSM is not mine.**

**Moving on. I present you with the next chapter:) Tell me, rushed, not rushed? **

Thanks to AniimeChiick, xx-sunshine-ox, swimbabe101, Lalaine, Marrrrrryyyyyyyx2 (from now on I'm copy and pasting, heh), stfuimhere, hsmgirlie333, chaylortroyellafanforlife, anoddapple, lauren and hsm1 for the reviews for ch8:)  
And all the other reviewers who reviewed other chapters!

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. Please? Pretty please? With cherries on top?**

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It was nearly nine o'clock that night before Gabriella finally tore her eyes away from the computer screen. The day had been a typical tedious day—morose to say the least. Outside, the sky had already darkened with the glow of the full moon shining brightly through then window. She rubbed her tired eyes, quickly scanning her progress and pulled her hands over her head, stretching her aching back muscles, letting out a long, relinquishing yawn.

She took a sip of the warm, bitter-tasting drink in her hand and looked around her room. It was a mess. Her desk looked as if a tornado had been through it; carelessly strewn papers of all sorts everywhere, countless empty cups and bowls, wrappers of various candies, books, pens…and the list continued. As her eyes traveled past the table, she realized that the rest of the room was in no better condition.

Her gaze roamed across her purse, lying open near her desk, to her couch, covered with her sweater and jacket. Finally, she paused, staring at the object sitting innocently across from her. She began to smile.

Minutes blissful smiling moments past before she realized what she was doing.

_Stop it, _she commanded herself, looking briefly into the mirror conveniently lying on her desk.

But the nerves in her face refused to obey. Frustrated, she used her two index fingers to drag the corners of her mouth into a frown.

_Better. _

Satisfied now, she lifted her head once again to face the _thing _that had made her smile so disgustingly so. It was pathetic the way she had been smiling. It was one of those silly, goofy, grins that screamed '_I'm in love!' _or _'Everything is happy! The world is a happy place! Yippee!'. _Frankly, Gabriella wasn't in…or didn't _want _to be in love and didn't believe the world was a happy go-lucky place. It was really quite the opposite in her opinion—because if it was a happy place, Troy Bolton wouldn't be in it right now.

Truly, in her ideal world, they would have never broken up. Their relationship would have been real—not the lie that it resulted in. They would have gone to university together. He would have proposed. And really, they would have lived happily ever after.

She hastily snapped out of her daydreaming and returned her thoughts to the evil _thing _sitting on her desk, smiling the exact same smile she had on minutes ago.

_Evil. Pure undiluted evil._

And it truly was the embodiment of evil, sitting on her couch uninvited, laughing at her with its black button eyes. Oh and not to mention its god-forbidden smile, stitched on so perfectly. And of course, the big red eye-catching _heart _it was holding was another sign of its ill intentions. Definitely evil.

Gabriella narrowed her eyes at the teddy bear as if it were about to jump up and begin prancing about. She cautiously took another sip of coffee, discreetly allowing her eyes to stray to the small animal. It was disconcerting.

She slowly spun her chair to the left, picked up the toy and turned it around so that its back was now facing her. Then, she sighed, pulled her hair in a loose bun, and returned to her work.

But Gabriella found that she couldn't concentrate. The reason being none other that the fact that she felt that silly smile form on her lips once again every time she glanced at the stuffed animal. Immediately, she forced her lips into a thin line.

_Stop _smiling _like that._

She nervously bit her thumbnail and looked at the bear again.

"Stupid bear," she muttered, trying her best to ignore the constant feeling that was nagging her. She did everything in her power to forget about the animal and it's presence in her room. Nevertheless, she broke.

She whipped her head around to face the couch, choosing to glare daggers at the stuffed toy. The bear there suddenly reminded her of the time Troy had been sitting there watching her sleep. She groaned, furiously taking her purse to the couch and stuffing the animal inside—zipping the bag shut.

"There. Out of sight, out of mind."

She once again sat back into her chair, but her mind was no longer on work. Instead, it wandered to the previous day. "Friends," she scoffed aloud.

Yeah right.

It was funny. Only a few months ago, if anyone had suggested the idea that Gabriella would become _friends _with Troy Bolton, she would have immediately grabbed the person by the arm and escorted them to the mental institute. And now, look where she was.

Friends with the guy.

The whole concept had been bothering her the whole day. It was like an itch waiting to be scratched and Gabriella knew that once she began thinking about it, it would never stop. She had been steadily trying to ignore her recent _friendship—_and she had been succeeding too!Apparently, God had other plans. But then again, doesn't he always?

It seemed so to Gabriella.

Sick of it all, Gabriella pushed her chair back with such force that it nearly fell over and swiftly padded her way to the couch. The work could wait until tomorrow—along with the tedious clean up.

She picked up her purse and bag before heading to her door, flicking off the lights before throwing the door open forcefully.

Gabriella suddenly seriously questioned whether God disliked certain people. Because if he did, then he certainly, without a doubt, unquestionably, absolutely, _hated _her.

"Gabriella? What're you doing here?"

She looked up at the door, purposefully staring at the plaque that clearly read 'Gabriella Montez'.

"Right." Troy nervously brought his hand to the back of his head, pushing the hair off his forehead in the process.

Gabriella stepped forward and shut the door behind her with a click, signaling that it was now locked. She tried to imagine what reason Troy Bolton, the basketball star could be doing here, in front of her office, looking flustered and uncertain.

"Did you forget something?" she blurted out suddenly. It was the most logical answer to her question.

He clasped his hands together. "Um…not exactly."

Gabriella raised her eyebrows, thoroughly bewildered. "Then, why are you here at—" she checked her watch, "nine-thirty on a Tuesday?"

_Be nice, _she reprimanded. _We're _friends, _remember? _She nearly laughed out loud.

Troy hesitated, as if unsure whether to speak or not. Then, he motioned for Gabriella to walk alongside him. Against her better judgment, she complied, falling into step with Troy.

For a while, the only sound that could be heard was the echoing of the two pairs of footsteps in the white, deserted hospital hall.

"So…" pressed Gabriella as the arrived at the elevators. She leaned forward and

"I just thought…maybe we could hang out tonight?" He flushed, obvious that he was insecure about the idea. He felt pathetic even suggesting it, knowing that he would certainly face rejection. In all honestly, he had no idea why he was here.

He had just been walking around the city, or rather, limping around the city with Gabriella on his mind. In the next moment, he found himself at the foot of this very building.

Troy waited for her reaction through the anguishing silence that ensued.

"Hang out?" she finally echoed, sounding confused. "What do you mean hang out?"

It now seemed impossible the Troy could become any redder. "Like, just take a walk or have dinner or something?"

She still looked utterly perplexed.

"As friends," he quickly added.

"Um…I really shouldn't," she answered awkwardly, looking around, silently praying someone would interrupt them.

"Why not?" he pressed, scrutinizing her with his piercing blue eyes.

Gabriella felt trapped. She had no idea what to do or say. She didn't particularly want to spend extra time than necessary with Troy because she knew what it would do to her. But how did you tell a guy that without seeming like you're trying to avoid him. There simply wasn't a way.

"I-I—should be getting home you know." She smiled weakly at him before staring at the digits above the elevator doors. Why weren't they moving faster?

"We live beside each other. I could drive you home," he reasoned, still watching her. She felt uncomfortable.

"I'm busy Troy."

"You don't look busy," he replied.

"I have work to do Troy. My job isn't like yours."

"Take a break Gabriella." The way he said her name made her shiver. "It'll only be a while."

"Listen Troy, I just don't think us being friends is a good—"

But he cut her off before she could finish. "Please don't say that Gabriella," he pleaded. The words came from his heart, and he looked down in shame. "Please?"

By instinct, Gabriella reached out to him, placing her small hand on his arm. His head immediately snapped up. He looked closely at her.

"Alright," she relented. She paused. "Next time maybe Troy."

_Ding. _

Saved by the bell.

The elevator doors parted, and Gabriella wasted no time in letting go and striding in. She turned and waited for Troy to step in as well, but he made no move to do so.

Just as the doors begun to shut, he stuck his hand though to block it.

"Imean, youdon'tlooklikeyou'vehaddinner. Youhaven'thaddinneryetright? Iguessitissortoflatefordinner. Maybedessert? Orjustawalk," he rushed in one breath.

Gabriella stared. He stood there under the bright hospital lights, his golden hair shining, looking more delectably cute than any human should. He looked so flustered.

Just when inexplicable sadness begun to pour into Troy's heart, he heard her musical laughter. He shook his head.

"I know it was stupid—"

Gabriella gave Troy one very amused look. "Fine, Troy. We'll have it your way."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elevators door slid open, relieving the occupants from the silent twelve floor ride. Troy kept the doors from closing while Gabriella stepped out, murmuring her thanks. She trudged on her heavy coat, pulling her hair out from beneath. It took all of Troy willpower to keep himself from helping her. It wouldn't be appropriate.

"So…where to?" she asked, oblivious of his inner battle.

"Have you had dinner yet?"

Gabriella nodded.

"Oh, um…" he trailed off, paving the start of an uncomfortable walk. Troy was painfully aware that there seemed to be a line between Gabriella and himself. Not just theoretically either. She literally wouldn't step within a feet of him, as if being near him was contagious.

They stepped out of the hospital's automatic doors, the crisp night hair slamming into their faces at full force. Winter was approaching in New York City. All around them were noises, from people chatting outside the building, to the loud honks of the city traffic. Even the wind was noisy that night, whipping around the two ruefully. And yet, it was quiet between Troy and Gabriella. They walked in silence and though they were in the midst of a metropolis of millions of people, it felt like they were entirely alone.

"I know we haven't exactly been on good terms," started Troy.

That was an understatement.

He waited for a response.

Gabriella frowned, pulling her coat zipper higher. She wondered what she was doing here. "So, how have you been?" she ventured carefully, changing the topic away from the past, keeping her eyes to the ground.

Troy looked up, quickly casting a quizzical side glance at Gabriella, before returning his gaze to the front. He stuck his hands in his jacket pocket to keep them warm.

"You know, went to college, played basketball. Expected really."

Gabriella nodded understandingly.

"And you?"

"University, studied psychology and stuff. Now I'm here."

Gabriella could almost feel the tension oozing out.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, trying to come up with something to say.

She took the bait, helping him along with the conversation. Funny, she didn't remember talking to him being so difficult in the past. "I just moved here about half a year ago…with…" she trailed off, unsure whether to continue or not. Talking to her exboyfriend, whom she loved, about her fiancé, who was…well…her fiancé, was awkward.

"Johnny," he finished for her. He nodded, faking a smile.

Suddenly, Troy became aware of the couples now surround them. Some hugging, some kissing, and others sharing mischievous secrets with each other. Gabriella seemed to have noticed too. This was becoming more and more awkward, and Troy began to regret this idea.

"I didn't think you'd leave the ocean," he said honestly, turning around the corner of the block with her. "You had always loved it."

She shrugged, not believing that he remembered. "Things change," she said simply.

"Do you not—"

She smiled at him for the first time that night. "Nah, I still love it."

He smiled back, and their eyes locked. Both looked away immediately, aware and afraid of the spark the looks ignited. "How is it that you came to like the water?" he questioned, "I never really figured that out."

"It just came to me instantaneously, sort of just clicked. Like you and basketball."

"Yeah," he accepted. "So, anything else still true about you?" he asked, desperately trying to latch onto a flowing conversation.

She looked away and shrugged again. She didn't like how they were digging up a past she was trying so hard to forget.

"Still like reading, I presume," he tried.

Gabriella nodded. "Pride and prejudice."

"I see. Tell me, if you were Elizabeth Bennett, what would you have done?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you have fallen in love with prideful yet rich Mr. Darcy?"

"You forgot handsome," she cheekily shot back.

There was the Gabriella he had known before.

"Of course, my bad. The prideful yet handsome and rich Mr. Darcy," he corrected.

"Obviously," she replied, hesitated, then added, "that is, of course, after I got my degree and a job and didn't have to depend on rich but insanely prideful Mr. Darcy."

Troy threw his head back and laughed. "Practical. Very, you, Gabriella."

She wanted to ask him how he knew what was _her, _or not her, but decided to keep it to herself. They had just barely broken the ice, and the awkwardness had only been left a step behind. She didn't want it to catch up with them.

And catch up, it certainly did not, because for the next hour, Gabriella and Troy laughed together, smiled at each other, shared with each other and became friends with each other.

She suddenly remembered why she had fallen in love with him all those years ago. For the first time in a while, Gabriella truly felt like she could be herself. She felt…at home with Troy. And all those memories she had kept safely locked away came pouring out, reminding her of happy moments, sad moments, memorable moments, loving moments and others with Troy.

By the time they arrived at their street, neither wanted it to end. It had been a magical night, not that either would say it out loud.

Gabriella found herself standing under the streetlight at the corner of their street. Ever watched those movies about a goodbye kiss in front of the girl's door?

Gabriella had.

She twiddled her fingers nervously, looking anywhere but his face.

Did she want such a kiss?

_No, _she told herself. She was engaged, for heaven's sake. She shouldn't even be thinking of such things. But when she looked at Troy, with his lightly sunkissed skin, and his twinkling eyes, his generously pink lips—that she vividly remembered were soft and teasing—and his charming smile, she couldn't help but suppress a sigh.

Things between them had started out awkwardly. But that had melted away eventually. Gabriella didn't think she could hate him anymore.

A scenario suddenly played in her head—a memory of a time long ago. It had been after a date with the very man in front of her, and similarly, it had been time to end it. But they hadn't.

Gabriella cleared her throat, grinning. It was time for a reenactment.

"Up for some late night ice-cream?" She watched his smile widen in recognition. "Around the corner, around two blocks. Race you there."

And with a laugh, she took off, skipping joyously forward without looking back.

That is, until she heard him yell.

Immediately, she ran back to his hunched over form, suddenly remembering his injury. She reached forward for his hand. "Are you ok?"

He looked up and Gabriella knew something was wrong.

He was smirking.

"Got you," he teased, before taking off himself.

Apparently, said injury was healed. But that was quite obvious now wasn't it?

"I'm going to get you Troy Bolton!" screamed Gabriella, panting to catch up with him.

A small smile began forming on her lips as she ran against the cold air. She imagined her red cheeks and nose, the excitement in her eyes, and of course, the same silly smile she had tried to suppress before in her office.

She had a feeling that night she would be hugging the bear to sleep.

She had a feeling that it would soon become her companion every night—the little teddy bear with the big red heart, the black button eyes and the cute perfect grin. The now not-so-evil toy.

Oh yes, she had a feeling.

"Troyyy!!"

**A/N: REVIEW PLEASE. I'LL LOVE YOU IF YOU DO. :) Ok, I'll love you if you don't too—just cause you're reading my story. But please do.**


	10. A Little Drunken Especade

**Lalala. I don't own High School Musical.**

**I post this up every time, but who really reads it? I'm sure you all know anyways. **

**Ok. So coming up next. We shall have some nice moments. I was thinking of keeping this chapter purely just friendship, and I might, since I'm writing this before I'm writing the actual thing, but I plan to put a little drama to it in the end. I DON'T know if that's going to happen 100 though.**

**Review! Review!**

* * *

Friends.

Real friends.

Next thing she knew, the sky had fallen. The earth was now controlled by a secret organization of aliens from Pluto. And last but not least, Harry Potter was real.

That was how surreal it felt to Gabriella.

Friends.

Real friends.

It was Saturday that day, and Gabriella lay in bed pondering. She was snuggled beneath her warm blanket, and in her left hand was a certain little teddy bear hugged closely against her chest.

It was cold outside that day—she could see the frost on her window from her position. With careful consideration, she placed the animal beside her and tucked it's body under the blanket as well. He deserved warmth too. Mr. Darcy, Gabriella had named him. He was the Mr. Darcy to her Elizabeth.

That night had been over a week ago. After that, they had eaten a lunch together and that was just about it. And although their amount of talking had not changed that significantly—still the occasional hello's when they ran into each other—their attitudes had. The change was drastic. Even the air between them seemed to settle. Where once it had been frizzing and sizzling with tension and hatred, now it seemed calm and serene.

Gabriella thought she rather liked it.

* * *

Troy kept his eyes on the road, while fumbling around the passenger seat to find his phone with one hand.

Finally, he located the item and snapped it open, hearing the familiar sound of the phone waking up from sleep mode. He waited patiently as he pulled the car to a stop at the convenient red light.

The past week he had been in heaven. Literally.

Four years in hell—if you could call being in the NBA, hell—and finally a little taste of heaven. Gabriella had given him that with her friendship.

To him, it was so much more. But he could never let her know. He had known her for years. He could read her like no other. He knew that if she found out he still harbored feelings for her, she would retreat—withdraw. She would once against distance herself—and that was that last thing Troy wanted.

Speaking of which, he quickly punched in Gabriella's number. They hadn't quite progressed to the stage of trading cell phone numbers, although Troy planned to change that tonight.

He revved the car to a start as the red light turned green. The phone rang in his ear. Once. Twice.

"Hello?"

"Hey! It's me," said Troy, holding up the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he maneuvered a sharp turn. Once that had passed, he picked it back up with his other hand.

"Oh hey Troy," he heard the voice say. He could imagine her smiling into the phone held up by her shoulder while typing or writing. He found that girls had a knack for being able to hold their phones up. He figured it must be due to practice. When he did it, he often ended up hanging up on the person.

"Troy?"

"Sorry, spaced out."

She laughed on the other end.

"No problem. So uh…why're you calling?" she questioned. She sipped her tea quietly, taking her eyes off her screen.

"I was wondering if you were free right now," he said. "Free as in…not busy free," he amended. He awkwardly paused. "Yeah…."

Gabriella chuckled. "Well…"

"I just had practice, and I was just driving by. Just a quick coffee or something? I can't be long anyways."

"Right, there's a game tonight." She froze. "Johnny told me," she added immediately. "And I would love to—"

"Great so—"

"But I have a meeting in 10 minutes," she went on the finish. She heard him sigh sadly on the other end of the phone, and decided to make it up to him.

They were friends right. Isn't that what friends did?

"We could always have a small drink tonight after your game? If you're still up for it and you're not too tired."

Troy brightened, even though Gabriella couldn't see it. "Yeah that sounds great."

"Unfortunately.." She paused for dramatic effect, "I only drink on celebratory occasions." She smiled into the phone.

"Well, I'd say the Knicks winning tonight should deserve some celebration," he chuckled, picking up on her thought quickly.

"I guess it would," she teased.

"Then I guess I'll just have to make it happen." He hung up the phone, and tossed it onto the seat beside him, smiling happily as he did.

* * *

Troy was a man of his promises. Or, as of lately, he was a man of his promises. But Gabriella absolutely refused to think of the past.

So, again, Troy was a man of his promises—which was precisely why Gabriella was now pushing her way through an alcohol heavy crowd of dancing people.

_Go with the flow, _she had told herself. Really, it was her own fault for suggesting this absurd idea. Gabriella Montez simply did not do _clubbing_. Then, you may ask, why the hell was she at a club?

She laughed to herself. Johnny would certainly have a fit if he found out.

She pulled down her silver body hugging tanktop, and discreetly hooked her fingers through the belt loops of her black skinny jeans and yanked them down a little as well. They were a little uncomfortable. She had combined this outfit with a pair of stiletto 3-inch heel boots, a mane of tumbling ebony curls, and light make up.

Now, Gabriella was usually a very stylish and trendy dresser. But really—nothing spectacular. Tonight, when she had regarded herself in the mirror, she had been blown away. For the first time in a long while, she felt _hot. Sexy. Beautiful. _

Admittedly, there was a reason why she didn't choose to feel hot, sexy and beautiful every day—the look had taken her over an hour to create. She didn't have an hour every morning unfortunately. But she had wanted to look good tonight, although the reason was lost on her.

Merely drinks with a friend.

She found a pair of empty seats at the bar and sat down, putting her black leather purse in the one beside. "A…" she paused, racking her brain for a name of a drink. It had been a while. "Long Island tea please," she said to the bartender passing by. He gave her a gruff nod.

In short moments, the requested drink appeared in front of Gabriella, and she gingerly took a sip. She couldn't quite remember when she had last drank anything alcoholic other than wine, and she was pretty sure this wasn't a kid drink. Although it didn't taste all too bad.

She began taking slightly bigger sips. She checked her watch. She was fifteen minutes early. She took another sip.

By the time Troy arrived, Gabriella was on her second drink. She didn't know _why _she was on her second drink. She knew very well that she—

"Don't you have zero tolerance for alcohol?" He took the words right out of her mouth.

"I believe so," she smiled, slightly tipsy. He looked nice, she noticed, even in the dim light of the club. He was wearing a simple blue and white striped polo under a worn out leather jacket, with dark blue jeans and addidas runners. His hair was wet, with a few beads of liquid running down his neck and onto his shirt. He looked cute. But she kept that to herself. She wasn't, as of yet, _that _drunk.

He pushed the drink away from her reach. "Gabriella," he reprimanded.

"Are you laughing at me?" she snapped, although smiling at the same time. Troy bubbled with supressed laughter. Clearly, he was. "Don't make it too much of a trouble for you to hide it," she said sarcastically.

He shook his head, his damp hair flinging from side to side. "It's just—you're sort of drunk," he chuckled.

"Your powers of observation never cease to amaze," she replied. "Quit it, your hair's making me wet," she whined, rubbing a few droplets of water off her face.

"Sorry."

"Sweaty much?" she laughed.

A clear-minded Gabriella would never have said that. But this wasn't really the clear-minded Gabriella.

"Shower?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

She looked down, embarrassed. "Oh." She fumbled with her hands, taking her purse off his chair, and motioned for him to sit.

He did, and before Gabriella knew it, a beer materialized in front of him.

Now why hadn't she ordered that? Much less alcohol percentage.

"Yeah, why didn't you?" he commented, noticing Gabriella staring intently at his drink.

She snapped her head up. "It's really freaky how you do that."

"Do what?" he asked, confused.

"Read my mind," she answered shortly, shrugging slightly while looking at him suspiciously.

"It's not hard when you decide to say what you're thinking out loud," he laughed.

She instantly brought her hand to her mouth. "I said that out loud?"

"That and you said I looked cute too." She stared at him wide-eyed, in fear.

He nodded and she whacked her hand to her forehead. "I am never drinking again. Celibacy here I come," she announced.

"That's got nothing to do with drinking," he laughed.

"Sure it does, a celibate person means they don't drink," she reasoned, then frowned. "Wait..."

Troy nodded.

She shrugged and reached for her drink again.

Troy laughed even harder, and made tsk-ing sounds with his tongue, pushing the drink further away. "It's for your own good. Besides, what happened to the declaration a second ago?"

She giggled and shrugged carelessly. "I'll start tomorrow."

She began to pick up easy conversation with him. One benefit of being tipsy—talking was easy.

"Tuesday, come over for dinner with Johnny and I." Troy looked up at her, stunned. He guessed that she probably wouldn't have said that had she been sober.

Gabriella took his stunned look for something else. "Um, sure, you can bring someone if you like." She quickly changed the subject upon seeing Troy briefly nod.

"Aha!" she declared, succeeding in taking hold of her drink once again. She picked it up and found it slightly lighter than it had been when she had last put it own. She picked it up and held it at eye level, wavering slightly with her unstable hand. She peered through the glass, looking at Troy.

She laughed at the distorted version of him. Then she sobered, technically speaking, and found the drink to be almost empty.

"Where did it all go?" she asked, perplexed.

He took the drink from her hand and finished it off, then he pointed to his stomach. "No more for you young lady."

Gabriella crossed her arms in frustration, and pouted. "Hmph," she made a sound.

Then, she proceeded in taking Troy by the arm and leading him into the dance floor.

Had she not been a little bit drunk, she would register the intense look that Troy gave her throughout the night. But then, had she not been drunk, she wouldn't have gone dancing. However, luckily for Troy, she was a little bit drunk.

_Oh yes, celebrating indeed. _

"Thanks for…uh….bringing me home," blushed a now thoroughly sober Gabriella outside her door. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," smiled Troy. "It was fun."

"But you just had a game, and now it's nearly midnight. You must be tired."

Troy was, but he wouldn't let her know that."It was fun, really," he insisted. "I even got some pictures of drunk Gabriella on my phone."

Gabriella groaned. "Don't remind me."

They shared a laugh. Then, Troy cleared his throat. "Do you—r-remember what you said tonight?"

Gabriella frowned thoughtfully. Dinner!

She inwardly groaned yet again. Her and her big fat drunken mouth. What had she been thinking? Dinner—Troy and Johnny? But she couldn't well retract the invitation now, so she smiled and nodded.

"Dinner, yeah," she forced out. "Bring someone if you want," she added again, the words choking in her throat as they poured out.

"There's nobody."

She nodded.

He nodded.

"Goodnight," he said.

"Thanks again." Gabriella unlocked her door, and slipped inside, smiling one last time at Troy.

The door clicked shut.

"Where have you been?"

Gabriella whirled around to face Johnny. "Work," she instantly said. He looked at her suspiciously, and it was then that she remembered her outfit.

She didn't want to lie to him. But she couldn't tell him she was with Troy. She never planned to stay out that late, but she supposed it was for the better that Troy had waited until she were sober before taking her home.

"And then, I went out with a friend," she went on. She smiled apologetically. "I tried calling you, but no one picked up."

That wasn't a lie.

"Yeah, I had a meeting until 9 remember?"

Gabriella nodded.

"Well, alright then," smiled Johnny.

Gabriella went and hugged him. "Can we have a guest over Tuesday for dinner Johnny?" she asked into his sweater.

He didn't comment that she smelled of alcohol—instead, nodded and whispered a yes. At least he would see who the person was--the person who kept her out until past midnight.

* * *

Gabriella quickly opened the oven door, stuffing the meat inside before hastily closing the door again and chucking the gloves off.

"Johnny," she yelled. "Can you take this out when its five fifty?"

She heard a muffled response and assumed it was a yes. She checked her watch. It was four-thirty. That gave her about 20 minutes to get the salad done and an little over an hour to get ready.

Nervousness bubbled inside of her. Troy and Johnny in the same house. And to add on top of that, there was the fact that her cooking could be a failure. Gabriella was known for messes in the kitchen.

She rubbed her hands together and took out the cleaned lettuce, placing them into a bowl. Absentmindedly, she began to make the simple dish while thinking.

Gabriella had been so worried about tonight, that over work that morning, she had taken to make a list of possible conversation topics in case it was awkward. She expected it would be. She briefly ran over a few conversation topics from her list. _Basketball. New York. The cold weather compared to what all three of them were used to in thei respective past homes..._

She had everything planned, up to the perfect placement of the salt and pepper shaker. You see, Troy liked to put pepper on his kitchen and Johnny hated it, so the pepper shaker would be strategically places closest to Troy's planned seat. Thus, there would be no asking to pass the pepper shaker.

Gabriella nibbled on her lip. Perhaps she should reverse the salt and pepper shaker locations. Then, when Troy asked for the pepper like Gabriella knew he would, they could start a conversation.

She was utterly lost. What to do?

Gabriella shook her head, realizing the salad had long been finished and placed it in the fridge. She quickly washed her hands, and headed to the shower, checking the meat one last time.

It was half an hour later when Gabriella stepped out of her washroom, her make up and hair done already. With her towel wrapped around her body, she padded her way to her closet.

In the blink of an eye, her bed was covered with over a dozen pieces of clothing. She picked up Mr. Darcy, gave him a chaste kiss on his forehead, and placed him on her pillow to face her. "You're the judge," she said to him.

Gabriella held out the first—a bright yellow sundress. She regarded her reflection in the mirror. It seemed to cheerful for the harsh weather outside.

The next contender was a pair of faded blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt. Too casual.

She held up the next, a little black dress. She twirled around happily, smiling and laughing. She took a seat at the edge of the bed, rummaging through the pile.

A cute graphic tee? She held it in front of her, tilting her head to inspect it. Childish really.

And she continued doing this, happily inspecting over a dozen pieces of clothing. Last time she had done this was on her first date with Johnny.

Finally, she found a casual white short sleeved dress and took out a pair of black leggings. _Perfect. _She held both items in her hand and danced happily around the room, before falling into the pile of clothes on her bed as if it were a cloud.

She would make the night absolutely perfect. She smiled at that thought.

She slipped on the two pieces of clothing, striking a pose to Mr. Darcy, who nodded agreeably, or so Gabriella would argue. Then she walked over to her desk to find the pair of hoop earrings she had left there the day before. It wasn't there, but instead, she found a magazine. She quickly looked at the time—five forty—and decided to take a peek. She flipped through, none of the articles really interesting her, until she came across an enlarged photo. It was of a boy and a girl, sitting together in the park.

The title? Of course, in big bold letters:

Troy Bolton and Mystery Blonde Girl?


	11. The Disastrous Dinner

I hope you guys like this chapter

**I hope you guys like this chapter.  
I wrote this in like…record 45 minutes, so it may be rushed, but school's been a little suffocating. Don't hate me:)**

**High School Musical is not mine. We have established that.**

**--**

The clinking of the silverware against the plates echoed throughout the silent room. Gabriella chewed angrily at her piece of chicken, her face passive, her jaw set and her eyes intent on Troy.

Troy squirmed under her intense gaze, aware of the tension in the room.

"What lovely…," he looked down at what he was forking, "…vegetables you've prepared," he complimented nervously. He purposefully took another bite, gulping the salad down quickly.

"Yes, a combination of lettuce and sauce," bit Gabriella sarcastically, "I'm sure you've never had _that_ before."

Johnny looked at his fiancé, feeling a little sorry for the basketball player. He had been relieved to see Troy at the door when he opened it that evening. He trusted Troy not to do anything with Gabriella. "Gabi…" he started.

She serenely ignored him, choosing to focus on cutting her chicken instead. She stabbed at her meat as if it were Troy's head, furiously piercing it with her fork and knife, cutting it into miniscule pieces with her repressed rage. The two men in the room looked on in fear, neither knowing what had put her in that temperament. They pitied the innocent piece of meat on her plate. She looked up and smiled a sickly sweet smile, oozing with malice. The devil himself would have been proud.

The occupants of the room fell into another lapse of strained silence, with the occasional sounds of chewing and cutting. The three began to eat from their respective plates.

Finally, the awkward stillness was interrupted.

"Pass the pepper please," choked out Troy. He had been trying to eat his chicken plain because he was afraid he would set Gabriella off. It was as if she was like box dynamite, ready to be lit and explode.

The pepper sat unmoving in front of Gabriella. She looked up, panned her head around, cocked her head at Troy, then feigned obliviousness and returned to attacking her food with even more force than before.

Troy cleared his throat.

Gabriella lifted her head, intentionally taking eons to chew her food and swallow.

"Did you want something?" she finally snapped.

Troy wondered what he had done to be on the receiving end of her wrath. It was rather obvious her anger was aimed at him. Last he had seen her was on the night they went for drinks, and that had ended well. In his opinion, at least.

"Um…the pepper?"

She ignored him again. This time, Johnny reached forward from his position beside Gabriella and passed the pepper shaker across the table. He nodded at Troy briefly.

Troy nodded back thankfully. He proceeded to sprinkle his chicken with the brown powdery substance, before setting the shaker down onto the table.

He watched Gabriella as he did so.

"Did I..uh…do something?" he asked nervously, looking between Gabriella and Johnny. "Say something?" He made a face at Johnny, who seemed just at lost as he was.

Gabriella slowly forced her head up, looking Troy in the eye. "No," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Nothing at all."

"Is something wrong Gabriella?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" asked Troy.

"No."

Troy leaned back in his chair, setting his fork down. He bit back a smile. "Are you going to say anything other than no?"

She paused, annoyed that he found this amusing. That fact only served to infuriate her more. She took a deep breath. "No," she said, forcing her voice to steady.

"Is it that time of the month?" joked Johnny, attempting to ease the tension. It did the opposite. Gabriella glared at him, her eyes flashing in cold fury.

"No," she said slowly.

"Okay," replied Johnny quickly, sensing that he had done wrong. Troy lifted his hands in mock surrender, a smile teasing his lips. That smile died once Gabriella turned to glare daggers at him as well.

"Okay," he supplied immediately, his hands falling back to his fork and knife.

Gabriella watched as Johnny and Troy began picking at their food incessantly, occasionally sending discreet looks to each other that said, _what the hell? _Amazing how she had thought there would be awkwardness between them. In her opinion, they had bonded fairly well fairly quickly.

Had she not been so beside herself with anger, she would have noted that this would have been a perfect dinner. But a perfect dinner was the farthest thing from her mind.

"So Troy, the Knicks are doing good this season," commented Johnny pleasantly, attempting to strike up conversation.

"Yeah, it's much different than playing in college."

"Harder?"

"Much."

Both men looked to see if Gabriella would join in, but she merely trained her eyes on the pepper shaker in front of Troy.

"Do you want it?" he asked, gesturing to the object she was scrutinizing.

"Nope."

He looked at her weirdly. "Okay then…"

Johnny chose that moment to break in. "Who's you're next opponent?"

"Dallas Mavs. They're going to kick my ass," he said lightly.

She returned her eyes to her food, but spoke up. "Not if I kick it first," she said coldly

Troy narrowed his eyes. He had had about enough. "To what do I owe this pleasure? Obviously you're mad at me."

Gabriella shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why are you so pissed off? Was it that night?"

This caught Johnny's attention, and he gave an inquisitive look to Gabriella. She shrugged again. "We just had a walk," she explained.

"Until midnight?" he asked. Suddenly, there was newfound tension between Johnny and Troy.

"A long walk," she answered. "Won't happen again."

That seemed to placate Johnny, who returned to eating, although he was still slightly suspicious.

"So, Johnny," she addressed specifically, ignoring Troy's presence and his question, "did you read the People magazine lying on the dresser?"

He paused, his fork midway between his mouth and the plate. "Um….yes?" he asked tentatively, praying that that was the answer she was looking for.

"Mm," she made a thoughtful noise, and looked over at Troy, who had taken to staring at her. "Mmmm," she repeated, looking pointedly at him.

"I found this," she paused, "_funny _article."

"Funny you say?"

"I did," she affirmed, "would you like to see it?"

Johnny began to shake his head, but changed it quickly, and rather clumsily, into a nod seeing Gabriella's expression.

She pulled out the magazine that was lying in her lap and showed Johnny, keeping the content out of view from Troy, who had cocked his head in confusion.

"Troy Bolton and mystery blonde girl," he read. He turned to Troy.

"What?" Troy asked, perplexed.

"Troy Bolton and mystery blonde girl," repeated Gabriella, slapping the open magazine on the table with force.

Troy picked it up, never taking his eyes off Gabriella. He looked at the book in his hands, taking in the picture, and then turning to the article to scan.

Gabriella took the time to regard his expression. His face was passive—revealing nothing. _Damn._

Honestly, Gabriella didn't know why she was so upset. It wasn't jealously, she told herself. She had no right to that, she knew. But it sure seemed like it. She furrowed her brows, her forehead creasing while she thought. What _had _made her explode like that?

She just remembered reading the title of the story. Then her hands had lost all strength, her legs as well. She had stumbled and staggered her way back to her bed and fell onto it again, this time, not because she had been elated. The magazine had dropped onto the ground, lying open on that offending page.

At first, it had been inexplicable sadness…and then suddenly, it had just molded into fury and anger. Why? She didn't really know.

She had then stood up, picked up the magazine in a rush, and stormed out of the room—a dark cloud hovering above her head. The fact that Troy had just entered, in all his freaking Troy glory, only served to anger her more.

She snapped out of her thoughts and took a sip of her wine, eyeing him coolly.

He looked up. "This is why you've been acting like this all night?" he asked.

That had not been her expected, nor desired, reaction. Gabriella gaped at him.

Troy almost chuckled, purely out of the fact that she had acted so childishly and spitefully over the matter. "Why would you even care?" he queried.

"I don't," she immediately snapped back.

"Really," he said slowly, his tone clearly indicating that he didn't believe her.

Johnny tried to speak up. "Um—" But Gabriella cut him off.

"Really. What? You don't believe me?" She raised her voice, challenging him.

"Nope," Troy answered honestly.

"Um—" Johnny tried, failing miserably.

"Troy Bolton, you can do all you bloody want and I wouldn't give a damn," she bit back.

"Then why, may I ask, were you acting like a 3 year old all night?" he reasoned, his voice rising louder.

"I was not," she retorted, slamming her fork down. It bounced off her plate loudly, reflecting the climax of the argument.

All three parties stopped. Troy and Gabriella glared at each other, while Johnny looked on, unaware of their past.

Troy was the first to soften his gaze. He spoke softly. "Gabriella—"

"What?" she snapped. "Wipe that stupid smile off your face!"

"Oh god Gabriella," he laughed. "Do you even have a reason to be so mad?"

She felt the blood rush to her face. "Well.." She racked her brain. Suddenly, the answer popped up. "You lied to me," she accused.

"I did?" he asked.

"Yes, you said there was nobody!" Her voice was victorious—like she was winning the argument.

His ocean blue eyes penetrated her chocolate ones, their gazes locking together. "There _is _nobody," he half whispered, pleading her to believe him.

"Right." She looked emphatically at the page sprayed open by from the magazine. "Who's that then? Sharpay?"

Troy rolled his eyes. "Like I still know her."

Johnny looked curiously between the two. "You knew each other?"

"Yes," answered Troy.

Gabriella looked quickly at Johnny. "Not well." She turned back to Troy and looked at him skeptically. "I don't believe you."

He stared directly at her, and from his eyes, Gabriella could tell he wasn't lying to her. "She's my sister-in-law."

"But your brother's…"

"He's very young to be engaged," he admitted, "but he is."

"But—" she stuttered. _Sister-in-law? Oh no. Crap. Oh crap. She had gotten it all wrong. _

"There's nobody Gabriella," he reiterated. He paused, torn between whether to tell her or not. He decided to. "There's _been _nobody since…" he trailed off, although Gabriella got the point.

_Since her. _

She felt her walls crumble around her. Should she feel happy? Sad? She was engaged. He had hurt her. She had moved on. He…He didn't have the right to say something like that to her! He didn't have the right to mess with her like that anymore.

What could she say? He was obviously waiting for a response—

Beside her, the phone rang. "I'll get it," declared Gabriella, jumping up at the chance to exit the room. She hurried out to pick up the phone.

When she returned, she found Troy and Johnny quietly finishing off their plates. She sat back down gingerly.

"Who was it?" asked Johnny.

"My mother," she replied, her eyes towards Troy.

"Oh," nodded Johnny.

"Yeah.."

The silence returned to consume them. Dinner had been a disaster. An utter disaster, and it had been all her fault.

Gabriella eventually made a move to clear the table. She stacked her plate on top of Johnny's and reached for Troy's. Just as she put her hand around the edge, he placed his large hands beside hers around the plate, brushing her skin lightly. "Are we good?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

He knew he shouldn't have said what he said. Gabriella deserved to be happy. Troy had broken her heart. He didn't know why he had said it. He just…couldn't resist.

She looked up at him, deciding at that moment to ignore the previous comment, and smiled. It wasn't worth it to lose what they had so difficultly gained over the past weeks. "No," she said, "we're very good." She grinned and tugged at the plate.

"Oh sorry," he flustered, releasing his grip. He realized he had been nearly crushing the plate with his grip in anticipation..

Johnny looked on.

"I'm sorry for acting like how I did…"

"It's alright. I wouldn't lie to you Gabr—Gabi. Eve—" He cut off. He couldn't say ever—because he had lied to her before. He was in the process of lying to her. He was lying about his feelings.

She nodded, accepting the nickname and the explanation without even registering that she was. "So we're good."

"Very good," he mimicked. "Very good." He turned to Johnny, tearing his gaze away from the lovely brunette girl. "So…I brought you a few tickets for the…"

Gabriella picked up the plates and glided out of the room quietly, shaking her head, bemused. The two men burst out in laughter behind her.

Maybe dinner hadn't been _that _much of a disaster. Hey? It could have been worse.

--

**So that was my version of a furious Gabriella, throwing a silent tantrum:) we've all done that before I'm sure.**

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	12. Hearts: Those Damned Rebels

**So sorry for the delay. I USUALLY try to update every 3 days, but it's been like..crazy at school. You would think teachers would lay it easy on you after exams. But nooooo.**

**  
I hope you guys like this chapter. I realize that the last two may have been a little :S.  
But I hope you'll be satisfied this chappie. I am..predicting…this story to be MUCH shorter than my other one. Perhaps 17 chapters. That's what I'm planning at least.**

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* * *

Gabriella poked her head through the gap between her door and the frame, cautiously looking from left to right. She inched further out, twisting her head to the side. The coast was clear.

She crept out on her tip-toes, silently treading her way to the elevator with her bag in hand.

She pressed the button. The lift _dinged _loudly, and caused her to whirl around. No one was there.

So far, all was going according to plan. Save for the fact that she was sneaking out of her own apartment. She was how old? She felt like a teenager, going to an illegal party after being grounded. Not that she had ever done that before.

That was beside the point. Today, she had planned to wake up at five thirty, like she had been doing for the past week so that she would be able to leave the building without bumping into... Unfortunately, the alarm had failed to ring. That or she had slept through it, which was highly possible. Either way, this was the pathetic result.

The elevator music played as she felt herself sink through the floors.

Another safe getaway. She was seven for seven so far—and counting.

* * *

_Haven't seen you in almost a week. How about lunch?_

Gabriella looked down into the screen of her cell phone, her eyes skimming over the text message that had caused her phone to vibrate during her meeting. _It had been precisely a week to be exact, but if he wasn't counting, then neither was she. _She quickly tucked the phone beneath the table, rather masterfully from her high school experiences.

_I'm busy Troy._

She pressed send with one hand while the other rapidly scribbled down a few notes. In a matter of seconds, a reply was felt.

_If you don't want to, you can just say so. _Gabriella could feel the bitterness in his words, and felt almost guilty. _No need to avoid me like this._

She bit her lip. _I'm not, _she typed, even though it was a lie.

The truth was, she _was _avoiding him. She had come up with every possible excuse not to see him. At the same time, he seemed to be coming up with every possible excuse to see her. It was like a game of cat and mouse—herself being said mouse.

The thing was, her anger the other night had scared her. She had never been like that before—never been that angry. Never that emotional.

But around him…she just couldn't control her emotions. Jealousy had erupted within her, with even one look at the photo. In retrospect, she could tell it was jealously. But at the time, it was simply inexplicable anger.

And not only was her anger unexpected, and unacceptable. No matter how disastrous that night had been though, she was grateful for it in a way. It had served as a reminder. Honestly, she had begun _flirting _with him again.

_Flirting! _

She couldn't let that happen. No chance in hell.

_Right. Coach is calling. Later._

That was his last reply. Gabriella slid her phone shut and tucked it away, relieved.

"What do you think Dr. Montez?"

Her head snapped up. "It's great," she said hesitantly, looking around at the many faces staring back at her. Nobody was objecting. Rather, they seemed to be smiling, so she smiled as well. "Great," she repeated, bobbing her head.

"So you won't mind working today with Mr. Bolton?"

Gabriella froze for a second. "WHAT?"

"He requested to come in today…" her director began, bewildered.

Gabriella shook her head. "I know that, but..I..I _do _mind working with him."

"But you just agreed," pointed out a woman beside her. Vanessa? Or Vaneesa or something.

"Yeah but—" Gabriella looked down at her phone. _Stupid Bolton. He probably planned that. _"Okay sure," she resigned. _Damnit. _

"Great, then this meeting's over," declared the head of the hospital, sliding his chair back, followed by the majority of the other people in the room. Many picked up their folders and coffees, flooding out the door and back to their respective departments. Gabriella stayed behind, taking out her phone again.

_Damnit Bolton. I don't have a choice now do I? _

On the other end, Troy smiled. Perfect.

_Lovely then. I'll see you in a few._

Lovely? scoffed Gabriella. Hardly.

* * *

Gabriella waited nervously by her door, a bundle of papers in her hands. She heard the elevator make a noise, signaling the arrival of the lift. She snapped her head up.

No, not Troy.

She sighed. What was taking him so long?

"Looking for me?"

Gabriella whirled around. "How did you—nevermind," she decided at last minute. She didn't want to know. She handed him a few sheets off her pile.

"Here," she speedily instructed. "Just drop those off at the nursery. You know where that is. The kids are already there. They're all yours." She quickly turned him around and ushered him in the general direction of the room.

"Whoa there." Troy raised his arms. "What's the rush?"

"I've got lots of stuff to do Troy," she reminded. "You're not supposed to just announce your arrival and expect everybody to bend all their schedules to fit yours."

Troy resisted the pushing, and Gabriella soon relented. He was stronger. She easily recognized that. He turned around. "I thought we were good."

_I thought we were too. At the time. _

"We are," she lied through gritted teeth. "I'll be in my room."

"But—" Before he could finish, she had already disappeared.

Troy rolled his eyes, turning around and headed to the nursery.

Gabriella was amazed. Astounded even. Troy hadn't come for her once all morning. Not even to peek into her room without her knowing.

She would know—she'd been checking.

She'd been checking…the nursery. The kids. Not Troy.

Seriously! It was because she was on coffee breaks and wanted to make sure the kids were doing good. It wasn't her fault she had coffee breaks quite often. Nearly every fifteen minutes.

Perhaps she had misunderstood his intentions. Maybe he really just came for the children. It would be a thing he would do.

She thought back to Mr. Darcy that was lying in her spot on her bed at that moment. "Yeah, definitely something he would do," she muttered, letting a small smile grace her lips.

She checked her watch, stood up, and for probably the millionth time that morning, made a move to leave the room. This time though, she picked up her jacket and purse along the way.

While walking down the hall, she contemplated taking up Troy's offer for lunch in her mind, weighing the pro's and con's.

On one hand, it really was a while since they had last seen each other—and obviously, Gabriella grimaced, that hadn't been the best of nights.

But on the other hand—_flirting? _No.

No. No lunch, she decided. But what was the harm of detouring to the nursery one last time?

She made a u-turn, taking another corridor, and paused outside the door. She silently watched, smiling at the sight before her, with nearly 10 kids all vying for his attention.

_Kindergarten. Just like kindergarten. _

She began to lose herself to her memories, when she heard a deep voice behind her.

"Ms. Montez?"

She looked up, her eyes wide. Troy was staring right at her. Gabriella let the smile drop of her face before turning around to address the resident that had called on her.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You seemed…a little…"

"Yeah, I'm fine thanks," she nodded quickly. She watched as the male retreated, accepting her brief reply.

She turned back to Troy. He stared. She stared. There was a moment of silence.

"Damn," she cursed under her breath.

"You don't honestly think I don't how many times you came by," he started.

"Damn," she swore, a little louder this time. She crossed her arms.

"Go to lunch with me Gabriella," he stated, ignoring her.

"I have plans."

"You don't."

"I do." She knew that he knew she was lying. He had always been able to tell with her. He could always read her.

As predicted, he shrugged. "I don't believe you. Go to lunch with me, I need to talk to you," he said solemnly.

She paused. "I—No," she said bluntly. "I don't want to go to lunch with you."

He chuckled, raising his eyebrows. "Now was it that hard to say? You've been trying for the past few days haven't you," he stated correctly.

She huffed. "Don't assume stuff about me Troy."

He shrugged again, his lips twitching, even though his heart briefly ached at the fact that she hadn't corrected him. So she _had _been avoiding him.

"I know this great place, five minutes." He held out five fingers.

"Do you not understand Troy?"

"Great," he insisted, picking up his coat, gesturing at the nurses to take the kid's back to their beds, "let's go."

"But, but—" Gabriella began as she was being pushed out the door. She stumbled, and grabbed Troy's arm to steady herself. "But—"

She looked up at him. "You're a pest, you know that?"

"I know," he laughed.

"Fine Bolton," she pouted. "Half an hour."

Her mutinous heart smiled inwardly. Then again, it was no surprise. Hearts were often known to be rebels.

The chiming of bells above their heads rang as Gabriella stepped in the small coffee shop with Troy. Together, they stood in line, silently contemplating the many choices: sandwiches, soups and such.

"A BLT please, and a coffee," said Troy. He looked towards Gabriella, who nearly wretched at the word coffee.

"Cinnamon Raison Bagel," she said. Troy nodded, reaching into his wallet to pull out a ten dollar bill. He kept his palm over the clear plastic photo space of his wallet, well aware that it held a picture of himself and Gabriella. He never had the heart to pull it out. When he had dated others, he had merely covered the photo with a business card of some sort. It didn't feel right to take it out. It felt too final—ironically. She had actually been the one to give—

"Didn't I get you that wallet?" she blurted out.

He nodded in affirmation, before stepping out of the way for the person behind. Gabriella bit her lip. It was the wallet she had bought him for their first anniversary, such a long time ago.

Troy picked up the filled tray. His eyes scanned the homely room, consisting of majestically coloured furniture and a warm burning fireplace. Troy headed for an empty table near the window, followed closely by Gabriella.

The chairs scraped against the floor as the two pulled them out, hanging their heavy coats over the backing. Gabriella eased herself into the chair, shivering slightly, before picking up her warm bagel.

She bit into the soft toasted and buttered bread, her eyes glazing over with thoughts. Troy noticed this and tasted his own sandwich while looking outside at the frozen ground.

In the background, the bells rung once again, but neither noticed; Gabriella because she was lost in the past, and Troy because he was lost in the future.

After a seemingly endless period of time, Gabriella began, "What's up?"

"Nothing," Troy replied shortly, "And you?"

It was truly mindless chatter. The only answer one could get was–

"Nothing."

Troy nodded. "Exciting."

"Very. You didn't just ask me here to talk about our thrilling lives did you?" she questioned.

"No," he answered honestly.

"Then…?" Gabriella gestured with her hands for him to continue.

"I just wanted to know what I did wrong."

She stared at him briefly as if he were an alien from mars. A god from the heavens. He eyes widened in shock. "Nothing."

"Don't lie," he commented.

"I-I-'m not," she stammered. "Really, and besides, it's none of your business."

He felt his heart sink. "Look, whether you want to talk about it or not," he waited for a reply, but upon receiving none, he went on, "but I just wanted to apologize."

Gabriella shifted her gaze to stare intently at her food. "You have no reason to apologize," she answered. "Honestly," she added, truth shining from her eyes as she watched him. He frowned.

Gabriella really didn't want him to apologize. It made her soft. She needed to be strong. She wanted, no, _needed, _a reason to hate him. And him. Here. Apologizing. It was too much.

She checked her watch. 10 minutes left by now. Troy looked as well, realizing that he needed to hurry up.

"Gabriella," he said quietly, putting down his food.

She lowered her hands as well, looking right at him, her chocolate eyes meeting his blue ones.

"Yes," she whispered.

"I…" He looked away from her, training his eyes on her bagel instead. "I love—"

"No," she rejected loudly, not allowing him to continue. Her heart pounded. Her stomach twisted. She felt herself heat up. She closed her eyes, entrapping the salty water threatening to pour out. "No," she repeated, to convince herself more than to convince him.

Knots formed in his stomach. He felt as if an axe had split his heart open. _Why? _He wanted to ask. But he knew the answer. Still, he thought maybe if he tried again…

"Gabi."

She didn't respond, but her lips nervously twitched.

"I lo—"

She broke. Her fragile glass heart shattered. "Please Troy," she begged. "Don't"

Half of her wanted to melt in his arms. Oh, she knew very well what he wanted to say.

Those three little words.

How often had she dreamed this would happen? How often had she prayed for this?

But it wasn't right. She couldn't handle this.

It couldn't be.

From Troy's throat came an odd croaking sound. Gabriella opened her eyes to see his eyes mirroring hers, filling with a liquidy substance. Yet still, he seemed to have more resolve then her.

Troy gulped, forcing his head to nod. His head was spinning, feeling as if it weight a thousand pounds. Yet at the same time, he felt lightheaded. Not in the good way.

Oh god. Fuck.

He just screwed everything up. That thought briefly registered in his mind.

But he was _so sure _she had been jealous. There was no mistaking it. Yet he chided himself. He should have known this would be her answer. In fact, he _had known. _He just couldn't refrain himself. He had to try. Fuck.

It wouldn't be Gabriella if she didn't reject this. It wouldn't be his Gabriella.

By now, her lunch had dropped, forgotten, from her numb hands. She felt her whole body weaken. Not one ounce of strength flowed through her.

A couple of passerby's stared curiously at them through the window, recognizing the man in the billboard posters.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, his voice full of emotion.

That was the second worse thing he could have said. The worst being what he had previously attempted.

Gabriella felt like she was suffocating. This had been her dream once upon a time. She had prayed, wished, and hoped all at once that he would just say _sorry _to her. It had been her dream for years after he had broken her. Except, it hadn't exactly played out like this. But it was close enough.

He was here. Professing his love—his regret—his sorrow—his sorry.

And yet. In her dreams, she had been smiling—accepting—overjoyed.

Now all she wanted to do was run away.

"For what?" she forced out.

"You know…" he trailed off. Shame clouded his facial features. Guilt flushed his skin.

Gabriella looked up at him. She tentatively reached for him with her hands, inching across the table. Her eyes watched his face, as his watched her hands.

They stopped short at his—close, but not touching. She stopped herself.

He looked up.

"It's too late to be sorry Troy," she cried, tears spilling in front of him for the first time. The pain resounding from her expressive face pounded his body, tattooing in his mind forever. Her look burned him, as his regretful look burned her.

She abruptly pushed her chair back, her hand retreating just as suddenly. The sound scraping his ears. His hands ached to grab hers. Instead, he clenched them into fists, so tightly he nearly pierced his skin with his nails.

Gabriella grabbed her bag and ran out of the store, her jacket forgotten.

Slowly, numbly, and achingly so, Troy stood as well. He picked up the thick fabric, smelling faintly of his love. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

_True, complete forgiveness was perhaps too much to ask. But he had to try._

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	13. Big Plans

**My update times have reduced. It puts me to shame. I'm sorry. But, I think once every week is all I can do now—blame my damn teachers.**

**The song is called Big Plans- by The Rembrandts.  
**

**Anyways, I hope you guys review.**

* * *

Gabriella treaded down the empty hallway, the noises that her heels made resounding off the walls while her skirt swayed from side to side.

"Gabriella," someone from behind called. "Gabriella!"

She paused, prepared to turn around and answer, except her head seemed to be refusing to obey. Gabriella frowned, and tried again, yet she couldn't, as if some invisible force was stopping her.

"Gabriella!"

Her attempts were futile. She looked to her right with her peripheral vision. She could see nothing but the white hospital walls, bleak as ever.

"Gabriella!" The voice was beginning to fade, the person retreating.

"Wait!" she called desperately, but to no avail. She pushed against the force.

"Gabriella," the voice whispered, and then, it was gone. And with that, the barrier seemed to disappear. She stumbled around, bewildered, to find the hallway completely empty.

She shook her head, convincing herself that she was simply imagining things, and turned around, walking straight into a wall of a chest.

"Oh! I'm sorry," she began, but the words died on her lips as she looked up at the imposing figure.

Troy.

"Gabriella," he whispered, his voice mimicking that of the person that had just been calling her.

She froze. "Tro—"

"I love you," he said, with a soft, loving smile. "I love you."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. "_I love you too." _

Troy frowned. "Say something Gabriella."

_"I am! Can't you hear it?" _Her eyes widened as she realized she couldn't even hear herself. _"What's happening Troy? Troy?"_

"Please Gabi," he pleaded desperately, "say something. Anything."

"No." It was true that the word came from her mouth, but it was completely foreign to her. Her mind was screaming the opposite. Her heart was screaming the opposite. Her whole body was. _Yes! Yes! Yes!_

"No?" he asked brokenly. His shoulders slumped, his eyes drooped.

_"YES!" _she screamed, but again, nothing came out.

And then, slowly, he turned and took a step away, not looking back.

_"Troy!" _she cried. She moved her hands to grab him, but they merely passed through as if she were a ghost. She stared at herself in horror. _"Troy!"_

She ran forward to catch up. But as she reached out to him with her hands, they merely slipped right through his body.

_"Come back!" she yelled. "I love you." _

It was useless.

_"I love you! I love you! Troy!"_

Gabriella awoke with a start, her hands grasping the air in front of her, her forehead beaded with sweat. Shakily, she took in her surroundings. Her bed, her curtains, her desk. Familiar, comforting sights. She wasn't at the hospital. There was no Troy. Everything was okay.

Her breathing began to return to its normal pace as she gasped in the cool air. Her hands went to wipe her brow, as she closed her eyes. She buried her hands in her face as the memories of the previous day flooded her mind.

_"Gabi."_

_She didn't respond, but her lips nervously twitched._

_"I lo—"_

_She broke. Her fragile glass heart shattered. "Please Troy," she begged. "Don't"_

She cringed while reliving that moment. It hurt so much.

Slowly, she repositioned herself, resolving to fall back asleep. But as her eyes closed and her mind wandered, the only thing she dreamt of was Troy.

Troy, and how much she loved him.

* * *

Troy carefully placed the bag he was holding in front of Gabriella's door. Inside was her jacket; he didn't think he could face giving it back to her in person. He pulled his hand through his hair, shaking it out as it passed through.

What was wrong with him? He had set himself up for disaster—and what a disaster it was. And this disaster—his disaster—had begun 5 years ago.

Oh, he had learned from his mistakes, he reflected as he entered the elevator. But it was too late. She had said so herself.

There were so many if only's. If only he had never been the young foolish youth he had been. If only he had never hurt her. If only he had followed her, chased after her, come for her. If only he had left her with a reason to believe him. If only she still loved him.

And yet, you couldn't live through time once again.

The elevator opened up, revealing the foyer of the apartment, bright and full of cheery people. He felt so out of place as he quickly slipped by and into his car.

He needed to drive. To clear his mind. To forget.

_G__abriella, she's a continental girl_

Troy reached out to turn the channel, but paused at the dial, listening to a few more words.

_She wants everything-She wants to rule the world  
Enough is not enough...she's never satisfied  
There are no limits and no mountain is too high_

He took his hand back, placing it on the driving stick. That was his Gabriella alright. Johnny's Gabriella, he mentally corrected with a frown. Johnny's Gabriella.

_  
It doesn't matter what I say...She's gonna do it anyway  
She's got big plans-She's got big plans  
I know you think you know...but you don't understand  
She's got big plans_

Troy shook his head mournfully and shut off the stereo. He wanted to clear his mind _of _her, if that were even possible. And the song was not helping.

He waited at the red light, his turn warning ticking loudly. His car reared into action as the light turned colours.

The wind blew through his hair, rushing against his face in his convertible. He wanted to close his eyes and just feel his way through, but for the safety of the rest of the drivers on the road, he ignored the feeling.

He wasn't ashamed of what he felt for her, no. To some degree, he had always known he loved her. But she was engaged, and that fact always hit him like a ton of bricks.

He drove faster, way above the speed limit. His hand contracted into a fist, as he slammed it against the door.

_  
She's not the kind of girl you give a Valentine  
And all your sentiments are just a waste of time_

How had it come like this? Five months ago, he had been so sure he had gotten over her. She was like a memory only. And now, this was real. She was there. Hell, he lived _next _to her now! How his life had changed.

Anger surged inside him. Anger and hurt. What had happened yesterday? He was so sure she had been jealous. So sure her feelings for him were not platonic. No, he was _still _sure. She loved him damnit. He felt it in his bones. Maybe she would never say it…

_  
'Cause Gabriella doesn't want to lose control...and fall in love again because it hurts, you know_

…but she didn't have to. How long would he have to be punished? He had made a mistake, and he was sorry. And…suddenly, it dawned on him. He would give it one more shot. He would make her listen this time.

_  
She doesn't hear a word I say...She's gonna have it her own way yeh_

Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps she was over him. But he had one last attempt left in him. He would tell her the truth. And if not…

Troy didn't want to think about it anymore.

_  
She's got big plans-She's got big plans  
I know you think you know...but you don't understand  
She's got big plans_

_(Defeat me) Defeat me  
(Completely) Completely_

Gabriella had defeated him. She had wanted to make him hurt. Make him pay. And she succeeded. _Maybe I ought to tell her that too, _he thought bitterly.

_  
Don't keep me hangin' on  
(So spare me) So spare me  
(No mercy) No mercy  
(Ahhh) 'Cause that's not what I want_

He couldn't be friends with her. With her, it was all or nothing. They just couldn't be friends. There was always too much tension underneath. The relationship was always to shaky, the emotions too strong.

_  
She doesn't hear a word I say...She's gonna have it her own way yeh  
She's got big plans-She's got big plans  
I know you think you know...but you don't understand  
She's got biiiiiiiig plans  
She's got big plans-She's got big plans_

One more try. And then…that was it.

**I think, this chapter, may have been a little confusing? I don't know. I know this story sometimes is.**

**Next chapter, we will have Troy and Gabriella talking it out. Or maybe more. **

**I PROMISE, the drama(and obviously TROYELLA 3) will pick up in the next three chapters. Oh yeah. The three sentence plan, is looking tres intense!**

**REVIEWS**


	14. What the Use of Regret?

**HSM isn't mine.**

**La ****dee da dee da.**

* * *

One moment, Troy was speeding his way out of the city in his car, and in the next, he was standing nervously with his hand a hair away from Gabriella's door.

He almost laughed mockingly at himself, but decided against it. He supposed he didn't need to take a stab at his pride himself today—Gabriella would surely do that.

He breathed in a deep breath of air before pounding on the door. "Gabriella," he yelled.

Upon hearing no noise, he increased his knocking. It never occurred to him what he would do if Johnny opened the door. What would he say? _Hey man, can I talk to your fiancée for a second? Why? Oh, I just want to talk about how we used to be a couple, and how I still love her, and how maybe she should love me too. Yes me, not you._

That would work.

Getting thoroughly lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the door swing open until he felt the lack of contact between his hand and the door.

"Jesus Troy, I have a doorbell you know," sighed an exasperated, and terribly suspicious, Gabriella.

"Oh," he muttered dumbly. His eyes never left her as his right hand fumbled for the doorbell. She watched his hand curiously. His hand shook as he traced it clumsily through the air, into the doorframe, against the wall, and finally on the small button.

He pushed it in accidentally, a loud noise echoing throughout the apartment as a result.

Gabriella raised her brow. "Okay, now that you have successfully rung the doorbell…what are you doing here?"

She wasn't certain why he was here—here talking to her. After yesterday. Had she dreamed it? No, she was fairly certain that it had been real. And if that were the case, then…

"Can we talk?" he asked bluntly. Tactics be gone. All those brilliant plans he had contrived? They melted at the sight of her.

Gabriella bit her lip. "I don't think that's a good idea Troy," she said gently, her hand on the door, preparing to close it. She smiled tentatively before looking away.

In reaction, he stuck his hand out to stop her. "Gabriella, Gabi." She flinched noticeably. "We have everything to talk about."

"I don't want to talk to you Troy," she cried, "why can't you understand that?"

"I _need _to talk to you Gabi" he said, pointedly emphasizing the two words, "why can't _you _understand that?"

"Just leave me alone Troy. What more could you do?" she screamed accusatively.

"I'll never bother you again after this."

"I don't want to hear this."

"I need to say this."

She placed her free hand on the bridge of her nose, rubbing harshly. Finally, she stepped away to give him passage, still looking down with her hand on her face.

Without giving her a chance to change her mind, he quickly stepped in and shut the door.

She motioned for him to follow her to the living room, where each of them sat on separate couches.

She looked up, her body visibly worn out and tired. "What is it Troy?"

"Is Johnny here?" he asked quietly, his mind reeling. He hadn't really anticipated _actually _talking with her. Fancy that. He had wanted to. He had planned to. He just didn't think he could.

"No. He won't be home tonight."

"Gabriella," Troy began, "I'm sorry."

This time, she didn't cry. She didn't gasp. She was prepared. In an unfitting emotionless voice, she said, "I told you once Troy, it's too late."

"I was an idiot. A fool."

"Yes, and you're sorry. I get that okay? I get it."

"But you don't!" he burst. "You don't."

She couldn't help it. "Well that's hardly my fault," she bit back spitefully. The moment she finished, she regretted it. She had worked so hard to get over that grudge.

Troy visibly deflated, sinking into the couch as he did.

"I deserved that I suppose," he shrugged.

She held back her indignant retort. "What did you really come for Troy," she said, as gently as she could make it sound.

"You deserve the truth."

"The…the truth?" she stumbled. _The truth. _She had always wondered. She had always wanted to know what he had been thinking. "The truth?" she asked again disbelievingly.

"The truth," he whispered in affirmation.

And suddenly, she desperately wanted—no needed—to hear him out. Her heart sped up. He looked at her inquisitively, unsure whether to begin or not. She gave him a curt nod.

"It had begun as a bet," he put his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, "a way to prove to myself that I could do anything at East High."

"King of the school," Gabriella breathed. "I think—I think I knew that part."

"No Gabriella, just listen."

She nodded mutely.

"I was the star, the—yes, king—and as arrogant as that sounds, it was the way it was."

"I was so stupid Gabriella. I wanted to push my classmates, see how far they would go. I wanted to see if I could surprise them. They accepted everything I did. I wanted to see how far I could go."

"And so I decided to go out with—" he cut off, squeezing his eyes shut. How could he say this? But he didn't have to. Gabriella finished the sentence for him.

"—the school geek. The nerd. The freak. The ugly outcast." She too hunched over and placed her head in her hands.

Troy gulped. _Total honesty, _he reminded himself. "Yes."

And as much as Gabriella knew it was coming, it was like a stab in her very heart. Unknowingly, it was a stab in his as well.

"You were a challenge. I liked challenges."

"You have to believe me when I say this, but it turned out to be so much more Gabriella. I was blind. I closed my ears, my eyes, my heart—but I should have known. You were everything, caring, loving, smart, beautifu—"

"And after all this, you're still lying to me Troy," Gabriella cut in bitterly, her hand clenching into fists. "Stop lying! Nothing you say is believable! What he had was a lie. You're a lie. That's what you are!"

"No! You can say anything about me Gabriella. ANYTHING. But what we had, was _not _a lie."

"I don't believe you anymore. I've learned. I won't believe you anymore."

"Hear me out."

He didn't wait for a response. "We went out for twenty two months and sixteen days."

"Sixteen and a half," she whispered brokenly, wetness rolling down her cheeks.

"Sixteen and a half," he acknowledged, his heart swelling as he realized that she had counted as well. Maybe there was hope. "Throughout this time, I had fallen in love with you. Hopelessly and irreversibly." He too felt tears sting his eyes. She scoffed, although it came out as a sob.

"But I didn't want to believe it Gabriella. I didn't want to fall in love. I didn't want to love. I kept giving myself excuses like '_Chad bet we would last a year. I want to let him win'._ They were stupid, yes, I realize that now, but at the time…"

He bit his lip in one last desperate attempt to not cry. "At the time, it was all I had. But then…I ran out of excuses. I don't know what happened Gabriella."

"Easy Troy, you broke up with me. You crushed me. You humiliated me. That's what happened Troy."

"What happened, Gabriella, was I loved you. I loved you and I made a mistake. As unforgivable a mistake it was, it was a mistake."

There was silence for a while. Unbearable to Troy.

"You didn't love me Troy." And that honest, raw remark nearly killed him.

"I did!" he insisted. "I do," he said quietly.

"NO!" she yelled forcefully. "If you loved me Troy, you wouldn't have broken my heart. I loved you. I loved you with my everything." She sobbed hysterically, uncontrollably. She looked up at him with painstaking eyes and if that comment hadn't killed him, her broken look surely would have.

"I did Gabriella. I always have. I was a fool not to have realized it, but I've never forgotten you Gabriella." He fumbled with his pocket, ignoring the water dripping off his jaw. He pulled it out, and opened it for her to see. "This picture," he said, looking at it mournfully, "it's never left me."

He unzipped his hoodie, and pulled out the chain from beneath his shirt. "This ring," he said, lifting their old promise ring up for her to see. She stared at it with blurry vision. "It's never left my side. It's my good luck charm in games."

_What else? _he racked his brain.

Of course.

He put his hand over the left side of his chest. "This," he said quietly, "it always has been yours. It always will be."

"Troy," she gasped.

"I tried Gabriella! I tried so hard. I tried to get over you. I tried to be friends with you. I tried!" he yelled.

"And I failed."

"Troy."

"I know you hate me. You have the right to!" he continued, still ignoring her.

"TROY!" she finally yelled. That got his attention. "I don't hate you," she said. "I could never," she breathed. "I guess I did at the beginning. I was heartbroken Troy. Literally, I was in bed for the month afterwards, unwilling to move for anything. It was the worst time of my life."

He looked away shamefully.

"I'm not saying this to place guilt on you. It's not what I want. I just want you to know, that you hurt me so so much. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forget it."

"I'm not asking you to forget Gabriella."

"I'm engaged Troy. You don't have the right to come back and do this to me. I though I was moving on!" Tears poured like rivers from her eyes. From his as well. "Why didn't you come for me?" she sobbed. "Why?"

"I didn't know what to do," he admitted.

Her head fell, her eyes shut. "Why didn't you tell me Troy? I would have understood. I would have tried at least. We could've gotten over it."

"I'll forever regret that I didn't Gabi."

"WHAT GOOD WILL REGRET DO?" she cried, shaking violently. Troy couldn't resist it anymore. Throwing caution in the wind, he moved to the opposing couch beside her and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You don't know how sorry I am."

"Troy," she whimpered, burying herself in his familiar arms. "Why Troy?" she squeaked.

"I'm sorry Gabi. I'm sorry."

She pulled him tighter to her, soaking his shirt with tears.

"I forgive you Troy. I'll never forget, but I forgive you. I think I have for a long time."

And they stayed in that position, throughout the night, snuggled against each other, taking comfort from one another, with loving smiles etched onto their faces.

"Troy," she murmured sleepily, as night rested upon the two of them. She breathed in his scent.

"Mm…"

"I never stopped," she said simply.

Troy paused. "Stopped what Gabriella?" he asked urgently. "Gabriellla."

But it was no use, for she was already deep in sleep.

**I don't want this to be a long story, so I'm thinking two or three more chappies.**

**REVIEW!**


	15. Nothing At All

**Disclaimer: I don't own HSM**

**I used to update more often. But I really can't anymore, because of school.**

**My goal, which I usually achieve, is to update every week though!(:**

**Review please. It would like…make me REALLY INDESCRIBABLY HAPPY. Yeah?**

* * *

Gabriella forced her eyelids open, unprepared for the onslaught of light that ensued. She briefly wondered what time it was, and more importantly, where she was.

She brought her one hand up to her eye, rubbing the sleep away. Unconsciously, she snuggled deeper into the warmth surrounding her. The warmth of a person.

And with that realization, she nearly shrieked. Troy. Her. Sleeping.

Shit.

She closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to wish it all way, but when they fluttered open once again, the embracing arms were still around her petite body.

Clothes.

She looked down at her body. Nothing was out of place. She looked at his, to find the same result.

Gabriella took in a deep breath. It wasn't that bad. Calmness—or forced calmness—washed over her. Carefully, she took her hand and lifted his, rolling out of his grasp as she stumbled off the couch and onto the floor rather ungracefully. As she did, her hand slapped onto the coffee table, sending shots of pain through her arm, yet she bit her lip and refrained from making noise.

She peered at Troy's angelic sleeping form.

The events of the night before finally sunk into her—the confessions and all.

Slowly, and shakily, Gabriella moved herself to the empty couch, falling down as her knees gave way. She had always supposed his reason had been similar. In the bottom of her heart, the deepest part of her mind, she had known he didn't mean to intentionally hurt her. But that was much different than hearing him say it. It made these suspicions real.

And never, _never _had she imagined he had loved her—still loved her, as she loved him.

Gabriella had received top marks in school, throughout her many years. She was considered one of the brightest girls in her highschool, an over-achiever in university—but she simply did not know how to deal with what was on her hands.

No book could prepare her for this.

It didn't take a genius to figure that if you loved someone, and said person loved you back, you should live happily ever after.

Should.

But then, what if said person had hurt you.

And then, what if you had closed off all hope for said person for years and years.

Throw in a fiancé, who loves you with all his heart, whom you should really love because he's better than said person.

Oh, and don't forget the fact that you never stopped loving said person.

Why was it so hard?

Gabriella buried her face in her hands, her hair falling over. She hated how love wasn't theirs to command.

In her state of emotional distress though, Gabriella still managed a logical mind. She watched Troy, gently snoring in the adorable way that he was capable of.

What would she gain in going back with him?

Perhaps, true love, her heart answered.

But what could she lose?

Her heart. Johnny.

Johnny didn't even know about Troy.

It took nearly half and hour for Gabriella to come to her decision, as she sat there gazing almost mindlessly at Troy.

It was her fault. Troy's fault. But never Johnny's. He didn't deserve being hurt, and Gabriella couldn't live with herself if she had been the one to hurt him.

Could she be so selfish to chase her own happiness, carelessly tearing apart someone else's?

No, she rationalized.

Perhaps she could learn to love him.

And with that, she made her choice.

* * *

It was almost 2 hours later before Troy finally awoke. By now, the sun was high in the sky. He yawned, pulling himself into a sitting position as he rubbed the ache in his back.

This had been his first good sleep in days—and it wasn't even on a proper bed. Troy didn't mind though. He had had Gabriella in his arms, and that was all that mattered

He tilted his head to either side, hearing his joints crack in response. Finally, he leaned back into the piece of furniture, noticing that Gabriella was missing. He wondered why, but as he caught sight of the time, it answered his question.

It was nearly noon, and a Monday even. He had missed practice, but Gabriella, being her, would probably be at work.

With that thought in mind, he stood up fully prepared to leave, but a step before he reached the door, he thought to explore a bit.

He returned to the living area that he had slept in, and for the first time, truly took in his surroundings. He figured last night he was too busy. He smiled in memory, feeling for the first time in months, some hope.

She had never stopped.

Loving him, he hoped, because if not, that would be a terrible misunderstanding.

He could definitely sense the touch of Gabriella in the room, nodding at the organized, neat but stylish arrangements. That, and the pile of books by the side.

Troy wandered around the area, feeling with his hands as he admired.

Finally, he reached the door to Gabriella _and Johnny's _room. The notion that he would be trespassing was firmly stomped on by his enlarging curiosity. He pushed the door open into this forbidden territory.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. She hadn't changed her perfume in all these years, and Troy had to smile at the thought.

He had given her the first bottle of it for their anniversary, and told her that it was because he loved the smell. She had promised to wear that smell for the rest of her life.

He reached the vanity table, fingering the tiny bottle and sprayed it into the air. Troy carefully avoided his gaze from the bed—for obvious reasons—but something caught his eye. The bear he had given her as a souvenir sat on the bed. Automatically, he reached for it.

"Ow." He grasped his hand back, sucking the blood pouring out of the small wound. He peered over at the animal, for the first time noticing the little pins in it.

He had to laugh. He didn't have to look to know that his name was probably tucked somewhere within the bear's shirt.

Suddenly, he heard noises outside the door of the apartment, and hurried out of the room, fully expecting…

"Johnny," Troy nodded, disappointed.

He took in the man's confused expression. "Why are you…here?"

"Um, why I'm here?" stuttered Troy, not expecting that. If he had time, he would wonder why he hadn't expected that, but he was on the spot. "Why, am I not welcome?" challenged Troy meekly, stalling. What could he say?

"Oh no no," hurried Johnny as he set down his overnight bag and briefcase. "I was just wondering," he said.

"Why I'm here?" repeated Troy, aware that he was on the verge of making a complete fool of himself.

"Yeah," answered Johnny, stepping into the open concept kitchen. "Look, would you like a drink or something?"

_No, stop being nice to me! _Troy wanted to scream.

"Why I'm here?" bumbled Troy.

The door flew open. "Johnny!" cried Gabriella, obviously trying to catch her breath. "The security guard down there said you came up." She looked at Troy, but glanced away before she could catch his eyes. She couldn't face him. "You're back early!"

"Yeah," he smiled, walking up to her and planting a kiss on the top of her head. Troy looked on, anger surging within him. "Surprised."

Gabriella awkwardly pulled away. "Yeah. Surprised," she gasped. She pointedly looked at Troy's chest. "Troy?"

"Yeah," he fumed.

She motioned at the door with her head in the slightest of movements.

"Yeah, I was just leaving," he mumbled, catching on.

With that, he briskly walked outside, slamming the door behind him. He sank down onto the carpeted hallway floor outside the door. What the hell had just happened?

"So," Gabriella said nervously, "why are you really back this early?"

She prayed that he wasn't suspicious of her, not that she was cheating. But she felt like she was. Her heart was with someone else, but she was with him. She felt like she was lying. She felt dirty and shameful. She wondered if it showed.

"Well," he smiled at her with his charming grin. Once upon a time, it made her smile too, but now it made her flood with guilt as she compared it to Troy's. "I didn't want to leave my fiancée for too long."

"What? Why? You know I wouldn't do anything…" Gabriella immediately defended.

"No, that's not what I meant," he laughed, "why are you so nervous Gabriella?"

"I'm not!"

He laughed, but suddenly it died down. "You're not getting pre-wedding jitters are you?"

Gabriella gulped, unaware that someone was outside with his ear pressed against the door, his heart breaking with each moment of silence.

_No, are you?_

As these words traveled into Troy's ears, he shut his eyes as if he had been shot. "Gabriella," he whispered, painstakingly.

He listened on.

"Of course not," replied Johnny, clearly relieved. "So, I think we should confirm a date."

"Right now?" asked a surprised Gabriella.

"Yeah, why not?"

"So soon?" she managed.

"We've been engaged for a while now, but if you want to wait…"

_No, no! It's alright._

"Why are you doing this Gabi?" Troy cried softly. He continued to listen, against his better judgment, which clearly told him to 'get the hell out of there before she could hurt him more'. He just had to know.

_February 24__th__ then?_

Her uncertain voice traveled through to him. He couldn't process Johnny's reaction as the only though that ran through his mind was how that date was only about a month away.

One month.

What had last night been to her then? Nothing?

He suddenly couldn't take it, as he pushed off the ground in one swift motion. Unfortunately, his foot slammed against the door in the process. As he made a move to leave, the door flew open.

Gabriella swore under her breath, certain he had heard everything, but prayed he hadn't nonetheless. "Hey Troy?"

He didn't answer, only stomping away in response. The night before meant nothing to her. Nothing.

How could he have been so foolish to believe otherwise?

**I'm certain there are 100 mistakes. You can NOT believe how rushed this chapter was, but I wanted to update because it's been OVER a week. Gasp!**

**Tell me how you like it. How? BY REVIEWING. Love:D**


	16. What It Comes Down To

**Ok, so after this, there's going to be one more chapter, and possibly a short epilogue.**

**Disclaimer: HSM is not mine!**

**(: ONE WEEK EXACTLY. I kept my promise. **

* * *

Troy threw the basketball down roughly against the stadium floor, letting out his frustrations. He watched the ball as it rose higher and higher into the air, before coming back down against the floor. The noise echoed around the empty stadium. It was the only sound, save for Troy's heavy uneven breathing.

For a moment, he thought about picking up the basketball to continue, but realized that it would be futile. He wasn't practicing. He was letting out his anger on the basketball and the net. He drew his leg back and kicked the basketball, watching it skid to the other end of the court.

He looked up at the thousands of empty seats, picturing them filled out as they were every game. Slowly, he turned around, panning the stadium.

Did it matter that they sold out every night, when the only person he _wanted _there would be getting married as of February 24th?

He sank onto the ground, lying on his back. He felt so small as listened to the soothing sound of the basketball's dying bounces.

Unwillingly, _her _face appeared in his mind.

_Her. _

Gabriella.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

_Gabriella. _

Her face haunted him.

He grimaced. Was this karma? Was this his punishment? Because he would rather be banished to the depths of hell then have to sit through her wedding. He couldn't do it. He wouldn't.

True, he had been prepared for rejection. But this was not rejection. This was pure cruelty—to have hope dangled tauntingly close to him for a night, before it was snatched away ruthlessly from his grasp.

He was sorry. What more could he say? What more could he do?

_Nothing. _He answered himself.

There was nothing more he could do. He had told her the truth. He had given her his heart this time.

He wanted more than anything to hate her. To resent her for hurting him. Because, hell, he was hurting. But he couldn't. Because she wasn't doing anything wrong.

Sure, he had been angry. And yes, he was still angry. But he could never hate her. It wasn't something he was capable of doing—no matter how much he would try.

The faint sound of the basketball still echoed in his ears, melodiously, allowing his mind to drift away.

Troy was in a room—no, a church, humming with the chatter of the people sitting in rows. Music played.

Music that made him flinch.

It resounded loudly and richly throughout as the voices died into nothing.

It was only then that Troy realized there was a man standing at the front. A man, and a priest.

Troy couldn't pinpoint where he was looking from. Above? Behind? He seemed to see from everywhere.

He blinked his eyes. Suddenly, he was looking from the front now. From the top of the aisle. From the man's point of view.

The doors burst open. And a woman walked in. She seemed like an angel desending upon earth, as the hazy light from the entrance outlined her body. Her face was covered by a veil.

Still, the music poured. The crowd melted away. The world melted away. And as she walked closer, her face became clearer.

Of course—Gabriella.

Troy almost began to smile. Who else could look so beautiful? But as these thoughts entered his mind, his view changed once again. He was on the outside now. A part of the washed away crowd.

But if Troy was there, who was the groom? Slowly, Troy looked up.

Troy bolted upright, sweating more than he had throughout the whole practice. He hadn't seen the man's face but he knew it was Johnny. It couldn't have been him. That was all that truly mattered—it wasn't him.

He wiped the glistening beads of sweat off his brow.

Troy was never one to be superstitious, but he couldn't help but feel heavy pressure weighing on his chest. The dream had seemed so real. Although he knew it was a dream, he also knew it would soon become reality. He was helpless to stop it.

He leant forward, pulling himself up. His abdominal muscles ached and burned, a sign of the strenuous day he had had. In fact, his arms and legs were sore as well. _He, _as a whole, was sore.

He trudged forwards towards his gym bag, which was conveniently where the basketball was. He leaned down and picked it up, dumping it into his bag half heartedly. He knew the bright stadium lights were deceiving. Practice for the team had ended at 9 and he had stayed long after. He wasn't sure how long he had been sleeping, but he assumed it was well into the next day already.

He just didn't want to go home. As he walked to his car, basking in the coolness of the night that seemed to act as some sort of therapy, he prayed to god that he wouldn't run into Gabriella ever again.

Maybe it would just be easier that way.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft _ping! _With his eyes glued to the ground, and his shoulders sagging heavily, he pulled forwards.

But as his eyes traveled the distance to his door, he found a person sitting beside his door, with their back against the wall.

God hated him. He was sure of it.

Couldn't he just grant Troy one thing in life?

Troy sighed aloud, closing his eyes as he slammed his fist against the door of the elevator.

Immediately, his eyes locked onto Gabriella's sleeping form, praying that he hadn't waken her up. Maybe he could get past.

Gabriella was awoken by a loud noise. Her immediate reaction was to pop her eyes open, thinking perhaps that Troy was finally back. She wanted to talk to him about this morning.

She wanted to open her eyes, but her instincts told her to keep them shut. She squinted, feigning sleep, as she watched Troy tiptoe towards her. He was unaware that she was awake.

She noticed his posture and expression, both filled with a type of sadness that Gabriella had once seen on herself. _Oh God._

Troy quietly crept past Gabriella, letting out a breath filled with relief as he made it across without the padding of his footsteps waking her up.

He didn't know what to say to her.

With as little movement as possible, he pulled his keys from his pocket, careful to keep them from jingling too loudly.

Gabriella watched from the corner of her eye. As he pulled the keys from within his pocket, something else fell out.

Troy hastily picked out the house key, sliding it gently into the lock and twisting it—cringing when he heard the satisfied _click. _With one last mournful parting glance at the person beside his door, he disappeared within.

Gabriella didn't dare breathe. She forced herself to keep her breathing calm, her eyes closed. And only until she heard the final click of the door closing softly did she open her eyes fully.

She rubbed her back, wincing as her hands touched a sore spot. Sleeping on the floor wasn't doing anything for her body.

As she stretched and got up, her eyes traveled to the little piece of white on the ground in front of Troy's door.

She bent down to pick it up.

Only when her hands touched it, did she realize it was really a photo. As her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears, she flipped it over.

It was of them.

Her and Troy.

Their first dance date.

She leaned against the corridor wall for support as she ran her fingers over the glossy image. There was no mistaking it. The unquestionable stain of teardrops.

She brought the photo up to her lips, placing a gentle kiss onto the image before crouching down and setting the photo back onto the ground.

It obviously meant a lot to him.

And as she pushed herself back up against the wall, she came to a realization.

It was all in her hands.

She brought her two hands in front of her body, palms facing up as if she were weighing her decisions within them.

It was all in her hands. So what did _she _want? What did she—not Troy, or Johnny—but she, want?

**REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY.**


	17. His Stage

**High School Musical. Not mine.**

**Zac Efron. Not mine.**

**Chace Crawford. Also not mine. Damnit.**

**Okay, so I've been to MANY basketball games. But never once courtside, sadly. So, I'm…guestimating what happens. **

* * *

"Chad," Gabriella coolly greeted.

"Gabi," he returned, feigning nonchalance.

It was a moment before both parties cracked wide grins.

"CHAD!" shrieked Gabriella, hugging her old friend tightly.

Chad laughed. "Alright, alright! I can't breathe!" She released her hold on him a little bit. "Wow, never knew you had it in you," he choked out as he filled his lungs with air.

Gabriella finally pulled away, gazing at her friend with an intent look on her face. "Do you…um…have it?"

He pretended to think. Then, from behind his back, he pulled out a strip of paper. He dangled it in front of Gabriella, just out of her reach. "Of course," he teased, waving the little paper.

"CHAD! Give it to me!" she yelled, jumping to snatch it from his grasp.

"Okay! Okay!" He handed the paper to her, put both hands on her shoulders, and turned her away into the mass of loud people in front of them. "Go make him happy," he whispered, before giving her a reassuring squeeze on her shoulders. He gently pushed her into the crowd.

By the time Gabriella turned around, she couldn't see him anymore. She tried to push past the chaotic mess, nearly getting run over by a man barreling by, but he was already gone.

"I'll try, Chad."

Gabriella caught sight of the door, hoping it was the right one. She had never actually been here before—the famous Garden. She held on to her purse in one hand, the paper in the other, as she pushed her way towards the door. It wasn't so hard as that seemed to be where the rest of the crowd was heading to. She felt like a fish in an incredibly large school.

"Miss?" a person asked as she reached the door. "Can I check your purse please?"

Gabriella looked to her right and left, in which similar lines of people stood, performing the same task. She mimicked them, opening her purse for the man to see. He nodded and urged her onwards.

At the next stop, she handed her paper to another man. "Straight to the left miss," he replied kindly, before handing the paper back to her.

Gabriella felt bewildered. Left? But it was a circle! Straight to the left? That was the elevator. She had never felt so lost or out of place in her life. This wasn't somewhere she was meant to be.

She briefly considered that that was a sign, telling her to _get the hell out of here. _

But she though of him, and her heart swelled. Blood pumped through her veins harder now, and she felt excitement replace her fear.

She took a deep calming breath.

"Excuse me, where was I supposed to go again?" she asked kindly, knitting her brows.

"First time eh?" the man asked good naturedly. He pointed as he spoke, "right over there."

Gabriella smiled. "Thanks."

She found that as she sauntered closer to her seat, there was barely anybody. Everybody seemed to be outside.

Suddenly, she felt a rush of fear. She felt like an intruder. This was _his _world. What if he didn't want her here?

But, it was too late now.

She walked along the row of folding chairs, finding her seat.

She couldn't help but look up every few minutes. Perhaps it was seconds. She wasn't quite sure. It didn't matter. Her legs bounced up and down on the ground, a sign of her nervousness.

Slowly, the place began to fill up. Around her, seats filled. The noise began to increase. Excitement swelled in the air.

6:54.

She looked again.

6:54.

6:54.

Why wasn't it moving? It was blinking though.

6:54.

6:55.

And suddenly, it was dark. The room, just a second ago filled with noise, turned silent save for some stray laughs.

The music began.

Gabriella craned her head to see the screen handing in the middle.

She smiled. There he was, in his world, laughing and smiling. She was glad for that image. It replaced his heartbroken expression in her mind.

Abruptly, the music stopped, and the screen turned black. She looked around, bewildered. And then in front of her, fireworks exploded. She jumped in her seat. The spotlights danced. She could here her heart thumping wildly in anticipation.

The music began again, as well as the announcements. It was spectacular.

"Basketball Fans! Please Welcome the starters for youuuurr New York Knicks!"

The crowd erupted. Literally. Gabriella nearly fell over by the noise.

"At forward, six six, from UCLA…." She cheered along with the rest of the noise. Each time a new player was announce, the cheers escalated.

Finally, there was one left. Gabriella put her hand to her heart, trying desperately to calm it down. "And finally, from Albuquerque, guard, six one…" She could barely make out the Troy Bolton, for the crowd had already exploded. The noise reached a new level.

She wondered if every game were like this. This exciting. This thrilling.

She was mesmerized as Troy ran onto to the court, his hair flying as he met his team members. He didn't see her yet. It was still dark. But she saw him, and she didn't think she could take it anymore.

She knew now what was the worse that could happen.

She could leave heartbroken.

The lights flickered on now, one by one. Troy was intent in his team huddle, leading his team through like she had seen him do so many times before.

He was comfortable here. This was his stage.

She was on the other end, and for that, she was glad. It gave her time to watch him, while he had yet to see her.

They broke apart, Troy with a sad smile on his face. Her heart skipped a beat and guilt flooded her. She had done that to him. She had done that to her Troy.

The teams began to warm up, but Gabriella didn't notice. She was too focused on the one man. Number fourteen in white.

She didn't know how long had passed. She didn't care.

Eventually, she came to realize that there were only a few left shooting on the court. The others had taken their places in lines, facing the other direction.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please stand as we sing the national anthems."

She heard the shuffling of feet as everybody stood. She did as well.

_Oh Canada! Our home and native land,_

This, she recognized as Canada's national anthem. She stood straight in respect.

_Oh Canada! We stand on gauuuurrdd foorrrr theeeeeee!_

She applauded respectfully, as with the rest of the stadium. Then, it went quiet.

_Oh, say! can you see by the dawn's early light  
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming;  
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,  
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?_

Clapping ensued, and Gabriella took her seat again. The players now huddled, and she knew, she just knew, that the game was about to start.

She was right. In a matter of seconds, ten players stood in the middle of the court, two of them in the centre.

The official held the ball.

It went high into the air.

The man in white knocked the ball into Troy's hands. Gabriella was instantly mesmerized again.

It was all in slow motion. The ball, pounding on the ground. Troy, running forwards with it beside him. Slowly—painfully slowly to Gabriella—he looked up.

Their eyes locked.

He froze. Visibly.

The ball continued to bounce, but it was forgotten to Troy.

It seemed as if time had stilled for the two.

And then, time returned to normal. A player in red, from the opposing team, ran forwards, taking the ball with him. Gabriella didn't see. Her eyes were still trained on the blue ones.

She heard the crowd boo. She figured the other team had scored. Who cared?

Everyone but her, apparently.

The Knicks were bewildered. What was happening?

The whistle blew. They had called a time out, nudging Troy as they went past. But still, he didn't move.

He didn't care either. Why? Because she was here. She was _here._

Slowly, he took steps towards her. She didn't move, but followed him with her eyes. At the other end of the court, the coach was yelling for him.

"Gabriella?"

**Dum. Dum. Dum.**

**It's not over yet.**

**Two more chapters I think. **

**One will continue from here (obviously) and explain what happened with Johnny.**

**And then an epilogue maybe. Or a nice tied up ending.**

**Yay.**

**REVIEW.**


	18. One Step at a Time

**I hope I didn't disappoint. It was unbelievably difficult to write this.**

* * *

"Gabriella?"

In a trancelike state, she stood. "Yes Troy," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion.

He stepped towards her. Now, they were merely a meter away from each other. The sounds around them seemed to fade away into silence.

"Gabriella," he said softly, his voice cracking.

She didn't respond, allowing a small smile. Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Oh god Gabriella, you're here."

She nodded sheepishly. "I am."

The moment was sacred. Troy closed his eyes. "Wha—what does this mean?" Hope flared within his heart. He waited to hear her sweet voice travel towards him.

She watched him, his strained expression. She could feel his racing heartbeat, rippling through the air. That gave her courage. He gave her courage. "What do you want it to mean?" she asked quietly.

But no matter how quiet she spoke, her words rang loud and clear in Troy's ears. His eyes fluttered open, and he broke out into a wavering grin. His breathing was heavy as he finished the distance between them.

Without another word, he gathered her small body in his arms and pulled her taut against him, afraid that if he let go, she would leave. He wouldn't be able to take it anymore.

"You don't know how bad it's been for me Gabi," he whispered into her hair. He inhaled, and the familiar scent on apples from her shampoo washed over him, reminding him of older times. "I want this to mean you'll stay with me forever Gabi, I want this to mean you love me too."

His voice, thick with emotion, sent shivers throughout her body. "I promise Troy." She struggled out of his arms and leaned back to watch him. She took a deep breath in, and spoke the words she hadn't spoken in years. "I love you."

He smiled. "What?"

"I love you," she said again, laughing through her tears.

"What? I couldn't hear you."

"TROY BOLTON," she yelled, "I LOVE YOU." She laughed as her hand came over her mouth. "I love you."

The crowd erupted, louder than ever before.

Gabriella didn't hear it though. Her whole mind was caught up in the man in front of her. Troy pulled her to him again.

They were vaguely aware that roughly 20,000 people in the stadium were straining their eyes on them, cheering for their happy ending. They were aware that they would be broadcasted on national television, where all of the country would see them. They were aware that the game was still on; that the players were cheering as well; that the coaches and officials were smiling and clapping as well.

It all didn't matter though, because the thing that they were most aware of was that they were in each others arms. Gabriella leaned in, capturing his lips with hers hungrily. Years of yearning stored away suddenly unleashed.

Troy could feel her happy tears, cold against his cheeks. Maybe they were his tears too. He couldn't tell and he didn't want to.

He matched her enthusiasm with his own pent up emotions, aching to prove to her how much he truly loved her.

"Troy," Gabriella pulled away, a little breathless. She pushed herself on her toes, her hands on his chest, as she whispered in his ears, "win this game for me."

He nodded with a smile. He would do anything for her. He would conquer the world for her. All she had to do was ask.

She stepped away and returned to her seat, finally aware of all the eyes on her or her face on the monitor above. She blushed and sat back down meekly.

Her body suddenly felt cold without Troy's warmth, but it only took one look at his beautifully happy face for her to know that everything was going to be okay.

* * *

Troy Bolton did not score the most points in the history of the National Basketball Association that night as a result of his elatedness that the love of his life had returned to him.

No, he didn't even come close.

He did not score a career high that night.

He barely scored 20 points in fact.

The Knicks did not end up crushing the other team either. No, they barely pulled together a win.

It wasn't one of those fairytale endings, where the princess kisses her prince, and the prince easily defeats his enemy as a result.

Why? Because this was reality.

And the reality was that the prince, Troy, could barely take his eyes off his princess all night.

But really, what was wrong with an ending like that?

It was nearly ten thirty that night before Gabriella and Troy finally had a moment to themselves. Troy took her hands firmly in his, leading her out of the empty Madison Square Garden to his car.

"So, no more weddings?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light. Even through the night, he was still afraid that she would leave him.

Gabriella seemed to sense this, as she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Not with anybody but you."

Troy couldn't hide his grin. "Good."

They had made it to his car by then, and he hurried over to the passenger side to open the door for her. He led her by the hand around the door, before shutting it closed.

He slipped in on his side.

He started up the engine but didn't start driving.

He turned towards Gabriella. "What does this make us?"

She frowned. "I don't really know. Where do we go from here?" she wondered aloud.

Troy didn't answer, as he backed out of the parking spot.

"Can you drop me off at 44 Rosedale Drive Troy? I'm living with Taylor, my coworker, now."

"Sure," he said, glad to hear that she wasn't still living with Johnny.

The drive to Gabriella's' friend's house was short and silent. It was a comfortable, not at all awkward type of silence.

Soon enough, the house appeared in sight. Troy pulled onto the driveway, his hand still clasped around Gabriella's.

"So…" he trailed off.

"So…" mimicked Gabriella, glancing at Troy.

He smiled. "Will you, Gabriella Montez, go out with me this Friday night?"

She smiled back. "Yes, I daresay I will. Let's take this one step at a time."

* * *

Troy returned home that night happier than he had ever been in a long, long time. He thought about his surreal night as the elevator doors opened.

He walked down the hall, humming to himself, before stopping abruptly at his neighbor's door. He stopped, his face once again solemn.

He rang the doorbell.

Nobody answered. And just as he was about to go, the door opened.

Both men stared at each other for a while, silently appraising each other. Johnny made no move to invite his neighbor in, and Troy didn't expect it to happen. It was a while before Johnny broke the silence.

"What do you want?"

Troy wasn't offended at the harsh tone. Rather, oddly relieved. He gulped. "I just wanted to say…that I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Johnny said disbelievingly.

"I'm not sorry that Gabriella chose me. No, I would never be sorry for that. I'm just sorry that we hurt you in the process," explained Troy firmly, not backing down.

Johnny considered for a long moment. "I believe you. I'm sorry too. I'm sorry that Gabriella's making the mistake of her life." His tone wasn't accusing, and Troy took no offense.

"It's her choice," he pointed out.

"I know," sighed Johnny. "Was there anything else?" He was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, just as Troy was.

"Yes. I wanted to say thank you too."

No further explanation was needed.

"I just want her to be happy." Johnny smiled sadly. "I love her too."

Troy nodded. He knew that.

"Don't hurt her Troy."

"Never again," Troy promised.

"Well then, goodnight." And with that, Johnny promptly shut the door without waiting for a response.

"Good night indeed," whispered Troy to nobody in particular before turning towards his own door.

* * *

Within his own apartment, Johnny stumbled to his couch, a beer in hand and he took the time to remember.

_Gabriella walked in the door, her expression frightful._

_"What's wrong?" Johnny asked, putting down his book._

_"Joh-nny," she stuttered, she paused, "I need to talk to you."_

_He got up, and led her to the couch. She seemed unstable, and bewildered. "Gabriella, tell me what's wrong."_

_But she wouldn't answer him. All she would say was, "I'm sorry Johnny, I'm so sorry."_

_"What're you sorry for?"_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"What?"_

_"Johnny, you need to know something."_

And she had told him the whole story. From the beginning to the end. From the moment she saw him, to that very night when he ended it all.

_"And he's back," Johnny said, her expression confirming his suspicion._

_"He's been back…for a while now."_

_He must of looked taken aback, because Gabriella hurriedly continued. "I wanted to tell you, but I thought I could ignore him. I thought I was over it," she said desperately._

_"But you never were," he said sadly. "That was what you could never say you loved me. That was why you could never truly love me."_

_"I'm sorry," was all she said._

_"It's going to be okay Gabriella," he assured, fearing the rest of the conversation. "I don't care. You'll learn to love me. I can wait!"_

_Gabriella closed her eyes, tears leaking out even so. "It's not going to be okay," her voice cracked, "don't you see?" She brought her hands up to her face. "I can't learn to love you Johnny. I tried so hard. I didn't understand why I couldn't. You were the perfect guy. The right guy. But now I know. I can't learn to love you Johnny, because I already loved him. I always have."_

_"Please don't do this Gabriella," he begged. "Please."_

_She didn't respond, instead, she sobbed loudly._

_"Gabriella, I'm the right guy for you. You're the girl for me. You can't do this to me."_

_She finally opened her eyes to look at him, taking in his disheveled broken expression. He ran a hand through his hair. "I know you're the right guy for me. But I've never fallen for the right guys. In another world, in an idyllic, perfect world, we'd be together. We'd live happily ever after. But…"_

_"But this isn't a perfect world," Johnny finished._

_"Yes."_

_"You've already made up your mind," Johnny accused, his eyes flashing._

_Gabriella looked at her hands. "I never wanted to hurt you Johnny. I want more than anything in the world for us to have worked out. I wanted to spare you. If I could, I would take all the hurt I've caused you and bring it onto myself because you don't deserve one bit of it."_

_"But you can't."_

_"I know, and I'm sorry. It'll never be enough, but I just wanted you to know."_

_Johnny felt his tears fall onto his hands. He watched her through his blurry vision. "You're going to get hurt, Gabriella, and maybe when you do, I won't be here anymore."_

_"I have to take this risk."_

_He sighed. "I just want you to be happy. And if you being happy means leaving, then fine."_

_"Oh Johnny—"_

_"Just know, I love you. I'm pretty sure it won't change your mind. Maybe had I known I had been losing you already, I could have stopped it. But now, I think it's too late. I love you though Gabriella, I always will."_

_"I don't deserve this. You're supposed to yell at me. Be angry with me. You're not supposed to—"_

_Johnny held up his hand. "I think I sort of knew it from the beginning. There was always something between us." He tried to smile, but it turned out more like a pained grimace._

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Sorry doesn't change anything."_

_Gabriella nodded._

_"I don't think you should stay here any longer. Maybe tomorrow you should…leave." It hurt him to say it._

_"Tonight it fine," assured Gabriella, trying to spare him as much pain as possible. She began to get up to start packing._

_"One last thing."_

_She turned around._

_"Who is it? Who is he?"_

_She paused. "Troy. Troy Bolton."_

Johnny crumpled the can of beer in his hand, and opened another.

**REVIEW?:) YES.**


	19. Epilogue

**Sorry it took so long.**

**I seriously could NOT think of a way to end it. It just wouldn't come.**

**It's still not coming, but I want to finish this story off. So here it is.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

**Three years later**

"Wow," whispered Gabriella, as the door slammed shut. She took a moment to bask in the sudden silence and calmness, compared to the chaos she had just endured.

Troy loosened his collar, and looked out of the tinted window of the white vehicle wrapped in one gigantic pink bow. As the limo sped away, away from the noise and the people, Troy fell back into his seat.

He took Gabriella by the hand, admiring the glint emitted from her left hand.

"Married," he said, tasting the word on his lips for the first time.

"Yeah," she murmured, leaning her head onto his strong shoulder. To hell with her hair, which her mother had fussed over for hours.

Troy placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. "To me."

Funny that there was a point in time where she had been someone else's. There had been a point in time where he had thought that he would never be able to hold her again—to kiss her, to love her. And now…

"Yeah," Gabriella answered, as she kicked of her heels and crossed her legs beneath her ridiculously stiff and uncomfortable dress.

"How did I get so lucky?"

Gabriella lifted her head off his shoulder, and gazed at him in wonder. "Yeah, how _did _you get so lucky?" She giggled as he pondered.

"I really don't know," he finally answered, taking her left hand again with his left. They stared at the rings, marking their promises to each other. Cementing their bond with one another. "But I'm not going to complain."

"I'd be mad if you did," sighed Gabriella, in her state of xanadu. She was blissfully happy, as was he. And nothing in the world could change that.

Not if the world caved in on itself.

Not if a meteor came and destroyed the planet they lived on and everything that the planet maintained.

It wouldn't matter—because they would be together.

_Forever, _as their rings said.

"I'm never going to lose you again Gabi," said Troy solemnly, out of the blue.

Gabriella took the white glove off her right hand, and took his face in both her hands. She turned him gently to face her, looking into his stormy blue eyes so that he could see she wasn't lying when she said, "I won't let you."

And then she leaned in, pressuring her lips against his for their second kiss as a married couple. Her eyes fluttered to a close as she lost herself in the moment, thoroughly absorbed in the passionate kiss.

That is, until he pulled back. "But I probably almost lost you that day, didn't I?" he asked, laughing as she pouted.

She considered his words, and thought back to the day.

And no, it wasn't that she caught him with another girl.

Or that he had gotten so enthralled with basketball that he had let her become second.

No, it was nothing like that—rather, somewhat the opposite really.

It was all because he had asked her to marry him.

* * *

**5 Months Earlier…**

_Gabriella sat in one of the courtside seats that Troy had purchased tickets for her for. She was a regular, coming to as many games as her job allowed her to come to._

_No more was she the lost girl, wandering unsurely into a foreign stadium and stumbling bewilderedly into her seat, that she had been the first time she had come to the game._

_Now, she knew where to go. Hell, she even knew the gaurds at the door. And more importantly, she knew that Troy was in the building, waiting for her._

_At first, she had come simply because she knew it meant a lot for him to know that she supported him. And she did. With all her heart._

_But how could she come to so many games, and not develop an interest in the spot. Now, she was as much a basketball addict as he was._

_She cheered as New York gained the lead._

_Her eyes trailed the ball down the court in the hands of the opposing team, and followed along with the rest of the stadium has they screamed._

_"De-fence!" she shouted. "De-fence!"_

_The other team player charged into the paint, and Gabriella flew to her feet. Suddenly, the whistle blew._

_The announcer spoke. "Blocking Foul against the Knicks' number 12, Caine. Johnson to the line for 2."_

"_No way! That's a charge!" yelled Gabriella. The crowd booed, and she joined in as well._

_Her eyes traveled frantically to her boyfriend, sitting on the bench with the rest of his team, looking for confirmation._

_She found him laughing at her, and as much as she wanted to get mad, she laughed as well. She took her seat again, her eyes never leaving him and smiled fondly at Troy as he ran a towel through his hair._

_The smile never left her face._

* * *

_Gabriella leaned back into her chair as she took a sip of the hot chocolate in her hand. She checked the clock above, and saw that there was only 2 minutes until halftime was over. The stadium was filling up with people once again, as they had left previously at the beginning of the half._

_She figured Troy was in the change room with the rest of his team. It had been her rule that he should never _ever _come out to see her during a game. She didn't want to become a distraction, although he had always assured her that she was always a distraction for him—whether she was here, or not._

_And so, it was quite a surprise for her when she heard his voice amplified throughout the room._

_She looked for him, only to realize that he was speaking through the announcer. Her eyes traveled to the table set up at the sidelines, directly across from her seat, where the announcer, and thus Troy, was._

_He was leaning over, speaking into the microphone with his eyes on her._

_She looked at him curiously._

"_Gabriella," he said. She listened._

_As did about 20,000 people._

_"I remember the day you returned to me," he smiled at the thought, "it was something similar to this."_

_Gabriella frowned. What was he doing?_

_"Except maybe you were the one nervous and not me. And I was the one surprised, not you."_

_Well, she was definitely surprised._

_"And well, since I may very well be publicly humiliating myself right now, I might as go all the way. I tried to make this perfect."_

_By now, Gabriella had some sort of idea what was going on. Her hand flew up to her throat._

_"Chad even made me watch about 20 romantic films. But maybe I'm really just the lunk-head basketball player you once called me, because I still don't know how to do this. So I'm going to do this the only way I know how. The simple. Uncomplicated. And maybe unromantic way."_

_He paused._

_"Marry me."_

_He eventually received his 'yes', but not immediately. He, however, did immediately receive his answer in the form of Gabriella flying towards him. Half in pure and indescribable elatedness, and the other in anger._

_"You've always got to make these things so damn _public_ don't you."_

* * *

The car jolted to a stop, and the chauffeur pulled the door open for the newlyweds. Troy climbed out first, before offering his hand to Gabriella.

"So what happens now?" she asked, pulling to a stand.

He wrapped his arms around her, one below her knees and picked her up bridal style.

It was only fitting.

And it was more fitting to say, "we do what all married couples do. We live happily ever after, surviving only off our undying and everlasting love because that's all we will need."

"You mean," corrected Gabriella, "what all the non-divorced, non-seperated, not arguing couples do. Which is...about 1 of them."

"We can be the one percent then. After all, it's our own fairytale."

**And so, now as the cheesiness suffocates me, I very sadly have to say that the story is officially over. **

**I had a great time writing it!**

**Thanks to all the people who reviewed!**

**I am…forever grateful.**

**So, one last time?:)**


End file.
